Original (English)

POEMS OF NATURE THE FROST SPIRIT He comes,—he comes,—the Frost Spirit comes      You may trace his footsteps now On the naked woods and the blasted fields and the      brown hill's withered brow. He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees      where their pleasant green came forth, And the winds, which follow wherever he goes,      have shaken them down to earth. He comes,—he comes,—the Frost Spirit comes!      from the frozen Labrador, From the icy bri