Winter

A diamond glow of winter o'er the world:
Amid the chilly halo nigh the west
Flickers a phantom violet bloom unfurled
Dim on the twilight's breast.

Only phantasmal blooms but for an hour,
A transient beauty; then the white stars shine
Chilling the heart: I long for thee to flower,
O bud of light divine.

But never visible to sense or thought
The flower of Beauty blooms afar withdrawn;
If in our being then we know it not,
Or, knowing, it is gone.