An icy gale, oft shifting o’er the pool, Breathes a blue film, and in its mid career Arrests the bickering storm. Loud rings the frozen earth, and hard reflects A double noise; while, at his evening watch, The village dog deters the nightly thief; The heifer lows; the distant waterfall Swells in the breeze; and with the hasty tread Of traveler, the hollow-sounding plain Shakes from afar. It freezes on Till Morn, late rising o’er the drooping world, Lifts her pale eye, unjoyous. Then appears The various labor of the silent Night: Prone from the dripping eave and dumb cascade, Whose idle torrents only seem to roar; The pendent icicle, the frost-work fair, Where transient hues and fancied figures rise; Wide-spouted o’er the hill, the frozen brook, A livid tract, cold gleaming o’er the morn. How strikingly beautiful is the appearance of the hoar frost, which clothes the trees in crystals, which sparkle like the most brilliant gems. Well might Howitt exclaim, as he gazed on the gorgeous effects of its incomparable loveliness, What dream of beauty ever equalled this! What visions of my boyhood do I miss, That are not here restored! All splendors pure; All loveliness, all graces that allure; Shapes that amaze; a Paradise that is— Yet was not—will not in few moments be; Glory from nakedness, that playfully Mimics with passing life each summer boon, Clothing the ground, replenishing the tree, Weaving arch, bower, and delicate festoon, Still as a dream—and, like a dream, to flee! The inclemency of the season is shown by its effects on animals, particularly on the numerous tribes of birds. As the cold advances, they become bold by want, and fearlessly approach the habitations of man. The little snow-birds, as they are commonly called, crowd into the farm-yards, and at the barn-doors pick their scanty fare from the chaff and straw. Robins and thrushes in flocks descend from the tops of trees, and frequent the warm manured fields in the neighborhood of towns. Snipes, woodcocks, wild ducks, and other water-fowl, are forced from the frozen marshes, and obliged to seek their food about the rapid streams which are yet unfrozen. As the cold grows more intense, various kinds of sea-fowl quit the bleak open shores, and ascend the rivers, where they offer a prey to the fowler. Cowper thus beautifully paints the sufferings of the feathered tribes:—