by J.F. Spencer.
Originally published in The Poet's Magazine (Leonard Lloyd) vol.2 #12 (Aug 1877).
Could I be borne afar on magic wings,
Or in a truthful vision of the night,
Sooner than any land of soft delight,
That realm I would behold where no leaf springs,
No living creature roves, no wild bird sings;
But Winter, age by age, in robes of white,
Coldly defies the Sun’s continued light,
And fills a throne untouched by mortal kings.
Then would succeed the long-enduring gloom,
When only wildest meteor-lights illume
The plains of stillness with ethereal strife:
An absolute and deadly solitude,
The thought of which might sober every mood
And add a grand solemnity to life.