by James Alexander MacGowan
The earth is dark and dreary, drenched with rain,
The azure sky is hid by clouds of snow,
Which bursts and whitens the dark plain below,
But 'twixt the river's banks it strives in vain,
Where each alighting flake is duly slain,
A moment white, then mingles with its flow;
Nor till the frosty winds, congealing blow,
Has it the power its mantle to enchain.
Frost, Winter's king, and Snow, his sovereign queen,
Upon a double throne their sceptre wield.
The king of Spring, ere long, war's flag unfurls,
Of Winter's reign no vestige soon is seen,
As Spring, luxuriant, sweet, clothes wood and field,
While, from high mountain crags, Winter defiance hurls.