There was a Fairy -- flake of winter -- Who, when the snow came, whispering, Silence, Sister crystal to crystal sighing, Making of meadow argent palace, Night a star-sown solitude, Cried 'neath her frozen eaves, 'I burn here!' Wings diaphanous, beating bee-like, Wand within fingers, locks enspangled, Icicle foot, lip sharp as scarlet, She lifted her eyes in her pitch-black hollow -- Green as stalks of weeds in water -- Breathed: stirred. Rilled from her heart the ichor, coursing, Flamed and awoke her slumbering magic. Softlier than moth's her pinions trembled; Out into blackness, light-like, she flittered, Leaving her hollow cold, forsaken. In air, o'er crystal, rang twangling night-wind. Bare, rimed pine-woods murmured lament. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STANZAS by GEORGE GORDON BYRON FRAGMENT THIRTY-SIX by HILDA DOOLITTLE ESCAPE AT BEDTIME by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE FLATTERERS by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE NEW SIRENS: A PALINODE by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE BALLADE OF THE GOLDEN HORN by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) ON THE DEATH OF MRS. JENNINGS by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 23 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT UPON MY DEAR AND LOVING HUSBAND HIS GOING INTO ENGLAND, 1661 by ANNE BRADSTREET |