How still, how happy!

More than smooth seas and cloudless skies

And solemn, soothing, softened airs

That in the forest woke no sighs

And from the green spray shook no tears.

How still, how happy! now I feel

Where silence dwells is sweeter far

Than laughing mirth's most joyous swell

However pure its raptures are.

Come, sit down on this sunny stone:

'Tis wintry light o'er flowerless moors -

But sit - for we are all alone

And clear expand heaven's breathless shores.

I could think in the withered grass

Spring's budding wreaths we might discern;

The violet's eye might shyly flash

And young leaves shoot among the fern.

It is but thought - full many a night

The snow shall clothe those hills afar

And storms shall add a drearier blight

And winds shall wage a wilder war,

Before the lark may herald in

Fresh foliage twined with blossoms fair

And summer days again begin

Their glory - haloed crown to wear.

Yet my heart loves December's smile

As much as July's golden beam;

Then let us sit and watch the while

The blue ice curdling on the stream -