POETRY.
A FROSTY SUNRISE.
Au, bitter beauty ! How the fair, false frost Burdens each leafless spray ! The ice-buds grow Thick midst the crystal foliage of the snow, Heaping their mockeries on hid life. Embossed With pearly wreaths, the elms' high domes have lost Their latticed outlines, and their full curves glow From the up-climbing glory hid below The level bars of sunrise, vapour-crossed.
So let us stand, and bear right patiently The surface comment of the world's cold breath ; Since its poor blame and undelightful praise Reflect the light of better things to be.
So spread our roots in silence underneath, And garner sap to flow in summer days.
Ermington, Taunton, January end. F. A. PRIDEATT.