Skipping and dancing on the frozen peaks, And moulding little snow-balls in their palms,

And rolling them, to crush her flowers below,

Down the steep snow-fields.

Alice.

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That, too, must have been A merry sight to look at. Uncle John. You are right, But I must speak of graver matters now. Midwinter was the time, and Eva stood, Within the cottage, all prepared to dare The outer cold, with ample furry robe Close-belted round her waist, and boots of fur,

And a broad kerchief, which her mother's hand

Had closely drawn about her ruddy cheek. 'Now, stay not long abroad,' said the good dame,

For sharp is the outer air, and, mark me well,

Deeper they went into that mountainous drift.

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And now the white walls widened, and the vault

Swelled upward, like some vast cathedraldome,

Such as the Florentine, who bore the name

To mock, in stem and spray, and leaf and flower,

The growths of summer. Here the palm upreared

Its white columnar trunk and spotless sheaf

Of plume-like leaves; here cedars, huge as those

Of Lebanon, stretched far their level boughs,

Yet pale and shadowless; the sturdy oak Stood, with its huge gnarled roots of seeming strength,

Fast anchored in the glistening bank; light | sprays

Of myrtle, roses in their bud and bloom, Drooped by the winding walks; yet all seemed wrought

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Of stainless alabaster; up the trees Ran the lithe jessamine, with stalk and leaf

Colorless as her flowers. Go softly on,' Said the snow-maiden; 'touch not, with thy hand,

The frail creation round thee, and beware To sweep it with thy skirts. Now look above.

How sumptuously these bowers are lighted up

With shifting gleams that softly come and go!

These are the northern lights, such as thou seest

In the midwinter nights, cold, wandering flames,

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Wheel round and round, and turn and wheel again,

Unwinding their swift track. So rapidly Flowed the meandering stream of that fair dance,

Beneath that dome of light. Bright eyes that looked

From under lily-brows, and gauzy scarfs Sparkling like snow-wreaths in the early

sun,

Shot by the window in their mazy whirl. And there stood Eva, wondering at the sight

Of those bright revellers and that graceful sweep

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Of motion as they passed her; - long she gazed,