Last night I saw a spirit move adown
The shadow-broidered path; and all her gown
Was dappled frost, and laughter lit her eyes.
Her little hands were pale as moths that rise
Upon the rosy mists; and in her dress
Was wrought in snow a promised loveliness.
She smiled-the daffodils and snowdrops came;
She called-the lily answered to her name.
And like a cloud of scented holiness,
That fed upon the chaste air's lowliness,
The twinkling feathers of the first snow fell,
The wind rose muffled like a velvet bell.
Earth drew her emerald garments close and slept.
Each little insect to its shelter crept.
The blue lake glistened into shining ice,
And round this pool the wild owl hooted thrice.
For Winter whispered thro' the cool, wide night,
And bird and beast quick vanished from her sight.
First published in The Australasian, 31 July 1915
