A halo of vapors enhance our vision;
While far in the background, indistinct and gray,
The blithe form of faeries our fancies portray.
' Tis the spirit of Poetry
That has lulled dead Winter to sleep;
That has melted our passions, which now flow
In continual anthems, none but rapture may know.
All is unity:
E'en with youthful loves entwined;
The soft, scented wooings of Spring's early morning
Gather into crystals, the picture adorning.
You, flowers of Winter most fragrant;
Imbibe all our effort, scorn at our reason,
No day of the year are you more in due season.
Mingled in the general lull of the twilight;
Empty your hearts, from their depth in our lay,
Rejoice and make merry this Longfellow's Day.
Hours in Dreamland
(Buffalo: The Peter Paul Book Company. 1896)