But now the wind comes, whistling loud,
To snatch and waft it, as a cloud,
Or giant phantom in a shroud.
It spreads,--it curls,--it mounts and whirls;
At length a mighty wing unfurls;
And then, away!--but where, none knows,
Or ever will.--It snows! it snows!
To-morrow will the storm be done;
Then out will come the golden sun!
And we shall, we shall see, upon the run
Before his beams, in sparkling streams,
What now a curtain o'er him seems.
And thus, with life it ever goes;--
'Tis shade and shine! It snows, it snows!
=The Whirlwind=
Whirlwind, Whirlwind, whither art thou hieing,
Snapping off the flowers young and fair;--
Setting all the chaff and the withered leaves a-flying,--
Tossing up the dust in the air?
"I," said the Whirlwind, "cannot stop for talking!
Give me up your cap, my little man;
And the polished stick, that you will not need for walking.
While you run to catch them, if you can!
"You, pretty maiden--none has time to tell her
I am coming, ere I shall be there.
I will twirl her zephyr--snatch her light umbrella,
Seize her hat, and snarl her glossy hair!"
On went the Whirlwind, showing many capers
One would hardly deem it meet to tell;--
Dusting Judge and Parson--flirting gown and papers,--
Discomposing matron, beau and belle.
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