Fain would I stretch me by the highway side To thaw and trickle with the melting snow; That mingled, soul and body, with the tide, I too may through the pores of nature flow. A WINTER SCENE[11] The rabbit leaps, The mouse out-creeps, The flag out-peeps Beside the brook; The ferret weeps, The marmot sleeps, The owlet keeps In his snug nook. The apples thaw, The ravens caw, The squirrels gnaw The frozen fruit. To their retreat I track the feet Of mice that eat The apple’s root. The snow-dust falls, The otter crawls, The partridge calls, Far in the wood. The traveller dreams, The tree-ice gleams, The blue-jay screams In angry mood. The willows droop, The alders stoop, The pheasants group Beneath the snow. The catkins green Cast o’er the scene A summer’s sheen, A genial glow. THE CROW Thou dusky spirit of the wood, Bird of an ancient brood, Flitting thy lonely way, A meteor in the summer’s day, From wood to wood, from hill to hill, Low over forest, field, and rill, What wouldst thou say? Why shouldst thou haunt the day? What makes thy melancholy float? What bravery inspires thy throat, And bears thee up above the clouds, Over desponding human crowds, Which far below Lay thy haunts low? TO A STRAY FOWL Poor bird! destined to lead thy life Far in the adventurous west, And here to be debarred to-night From thy accustomed nest; Must thou fall back upon old instinct now-- Well-nigh extinct under man’s fickle care? Did heaven bestow its quenchless inner light So long ago, for thy small want to-night? Why stand’st upon thy toes to crow so late? The moon is deaf to thy low feathered fate; Or dost thou think so to possess the night, And people the drear dark with thy brave sprite? And now with anxious eye thou look’st about, While the relentless shade draws on its veil, For some sure shelter from approaching dews, And the insidious step of nightly foes. I fear imprisonment has dulled thy wit, Or ingrained servitude extinguished it-- But no--dim memory of the days of yore, By Brahmapootra and the Jumna’s shore, Where thy proud race flew swiftly o’er the heath, And sought its food the jungle’s shade beneath, Has taught thy wings to seek yon friendly trees, As erst by Indus’ bank and far Ganges. MOUNTAINS