For where his voice was gracious and benign, He now displayed his fury and his hate. And all the garden people, white with fear, Fell to the earth overmastered by alarm, And as he was at first both sweet and kind, So now he ravaged with the wildest rage. He flung the dwellers of the garden out, The garden naked lay in horror vast. He threw the floral decorations low, The leaves and branches scattered o’er the sod, And as he devastated all day long, And at the last there followed placid calm. And thus while nature’s course its way pursues, Quiet and peace result from violence. XLV KING WINTER APPEARS IN THE EAST AND BLOWS HIS COLD BLASTS OVER THE EARTH The messenger upon his errand sped, With chilling words his message to convey. “A king,” he said, “was throned in the far West Whose breath was cold, whose very glance was frost. Chill was his breath and chill his aspect drear, His heart and every action cruelty. To moderation he was deadly foe, And plagued the people with his blasting frost. He was a sovereign who prevailed by cold, King of the world who men as Winter knew. Soon as his voice was heard amid the land The people shuddered at his fierce attack; His chilling breath could quench the heat of hell, For he was colder than the touch of ice, And as his power could cool the fire of hell, His rage could change an Eden into hell. For when his breath was fiercest, like a fire, He burnt and made men feel the pain of hell. His wild, inconstant, and unerring rage, In ruin laid the elemental world. When once his lance was on the people shot ’Twas like a poker stirring up the fire, And when a householder his face discerned, He swiftly turned him back into the house, And while his fury was without restraint, He drove the people to the ingle fire. And so he waxed in furiousness of frost That the world lit its fires and sat by them. The streets were blocked by his invading might, And in the houses piles of fuel blazed. The people in the mosques assembled thick, For refuge in the blaze of altar fires. To save herself from his invading power The rose garden became a blazing hearth, And yet he did not spare his breath of frost, But laid his hand on Autumn’s kindly glow. And when that monarch showed himself on earth He ran him neck to neck for victory, And like a flood his fury ran apace, And everything was stiffened in his way. The water curdled into solid ground, And the world’s eye was filled with crystal tears, And each one went about with covered head. The sun in heaven concealed himself for fear. The poor man and the rich alike were forced To warm themselves in skins and cloaks of felt. And each one of the city elegants Wound round his head a costly robe of fur.