Poem by Charlotte Dacre

Frost

HIS ruby cheek made orient crimson pale,
His gelid hair did stiffen in the gale;
Like silv'ry wire it glitter'd in the ray,
And scintillating sparklets strew'd his way.

The robe around his frozen body flung
Was dazzling snow, in folds fantastic hung;
A crown of icicles bedeck'd his brow;
His form throughout transparently did show.

Fatal to him the genial breath of spring,
And warning sad her green-rob'd heralds bring;
At night awhile he still maintains his sway,
But soon flies trembling from her footsteps gay.

Toward the high mountain of perpetual snows
He journies on, to take his keen repose,
Where, closely ribb'd in icy fetters bright,
He rests secure upon the slippery height.

1. Passion Uninspired by Sentiment
2. The Evil Being
3. Julia's Murder; or, The Song of Woe
4. The Answer
5. The Poor Negro Sadi

Edith Thomas Frost ("HOW small a tooth hath mined the season's heart!")

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