Frost
What swords and spears, what daggers bright
He arms the morning with! How light
His powder is, that's fit to lie
On the wings of a butterfly!
What milk-white clothing he has made
For every little twig and blade!
What curious silver work is shown
On wood and iron, glass and stone!
" If you, my slim Jack Frost, can trace
This work so fine, so full of grace,
Tell me, " I said, " before I go —
Where is your plump young sister, Snow? "
He arms the morning with! How light
His powder is, that's fit to lie
On the wings of a butterfly!
What milk-white clothing he has made
For every little twig and blade!
What curious silver work is shown
On wood and iron, glass and stone!
" If you, my slim Jack Frost, can trace
This work so fine, so full of grace,
Tell me, " I said, " before I go —
Where is your plump young sister, Snow? "
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