Mrs. Elizabeth Clementine Kinney (1810–1889)

HOW calm, how solemn, how sublime the scene!

The moon in full-orbed glory sails above,

And stars in myriads around her move,

Each looking down with watchful eye serene

On earth, which, in a snowy shroud arrayed,

And still, as if in death’s embrace ’t were laid,

Saddens the spirit with its corpse-like mien;

Yet doth it charm the eye,—its gaze still hold;

Just as the face of one we loved, when cold

And pale and lovely e’en in death ’t is seen,

Will fix the mourner’s eye, though trembling fears

Fill all his heart, and thickly fall his tears.

O, I could watch, till morn should change the sight,

This cold, this beautiful, this mournful winter night!