Now through the distant vales the fawn's light foot
Leaveth its cloven impress on the snow;
The wood's soft echoes mock the baying hound;
The hunter builds his watchfire on the hills;
The schoolboy, from his morning task released,
Shoulders the rifle, and goes blithely forth
To start the dusky pheasant from her nest,
Down in the ferny hollows. All day long
There is a sound of muffled hoofs, half drowned
By the quick sleigh-bell, that rejoicingly
Rings in the new-born monarch. All day long
The woodsman plies his sharp and sudden axe
Under the crashing branches.
And steadfast wave lie stretched beneath my eye,
Clad in one uniform livery. O'er the lake
The skaters flit like shadows, and afar
The wagoner plods beside his smoking team;
The sportsman, followed by his frolic hound,
Springs up the breezy hillside. Save for these,
All breathing life alike seems motionless.