Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1857-01-02

IT'S fearful night iu the winter time,
As cold as b ever can be-;
The roar Of The storm B. heard like the chime
or the waves ON au angry sea.
Tho moon b. fui, but her silver light
The storm dashes ou ~ith hi- wings TO night
And over thc sky from south 90 uortf.
Not a star is seen as the winds come forth
In tho strength Of mighty siec.
All day the snow came dowu--all day
A. Il ucscr came down before
And over the earth az night there lay
Some two or three feet moro.
The frurc was lost. and the wall of st1nci
The window. hlockd and the wcll-cnro gone
The haystnck grown 90 q mountain hh
And the yoadpue looked like a monster dnh
As ID lay az the farmers door.
As aie night sei in, came hail and SNOW,
And the air grew sharp and chill,
And the warning roar Of o sullcn blow
Was heard on the distant hin
And the Northct see on the mountain peak,
In his breath how tine Old trees wtiihc aud Shrek
He shouts along the plain, Ho Ito
III drives from bis nostrils the binding snow,
And grovls with a savage will
..
Such night as th, to be found abroad
a shi,cring dog. In nc lea Is al. .,.5
when the hail through his shaggy hair
Tho wind drives hard. doth crouch AND growl,
And shut his eyes with dismal howl
Then 10 shield himself from the cutting slcet
His nose is pressed ON his quiyrrug feet,
Pray what does the dog do there
IIis tnastcr came from the town Tonight,
And lost the travelled ways
And for hours he trod with main and might
A path for his horse and sleigh
But dccpor still the snow-tIlfts grew,
And colder still the fierce wind blow
And his mare a beautiful Morgan brown,
Az last DER log bad houudcrcd down,
That deep in a huge dim lay
Many plunge. with a fronaed snort,
She made iu tho heavy snow
And her master srove go his breath grew short,
With a word md a gentle blow
but the snow WINS deep, aud The tugs were tight
Hi. hands were uumh'd. and had lost their might
So he struggled back to his sleigh again.
And sunvc tu shelter himself IN vain
With his coat and bus buffalo.
He had given the last faint jerk Of the rein
10 rouse up his diving steed
And the poor dog howls 20 the blast in vain
For help iu his masters need.
He strives for a while with a wistul cry
10 catch but glance from his heavy eye;
Aud wags his tail II the rude wind flap
The skirts Of hi, coat across his lap,
AID whincs that he takes no heed
The Wind goes down, the storm Is DER,
It's the hour OF midnight past;
The forest wnthcs and bends no more
In the rush Of the mighty blast.
The moon looks out With a silver light
On the high old hills, with the snow all white,
And the giant shadow OF Cancels Hump,
or ledge, and tree, and ghostly stump,
On the silent plain are cast
But there are they-by the hidden log
Who came that night from the town
An dead the man and his faithful dog,
And his beautiful Morgan brown
He sits in his sloigh--his face is bland
With his oapou his head, and the roins in his hand
The dog with his head On his masters feet,
And The horse half seen through the crustcd sleet
Where she lay when She houndcrcd down
an this is pretty good for Mega. Roma reyba : BON
-5af Let us DC thankful for what We can get on thi
e. Of the water, aud "look the gift horse in tn
uih.' Eastmans poems contain many gems, an
houRh the volume was printed in this village, and ha
a no advantages such as would have been eonferrc
it by It's publication in elegant form by some larg
bshcr yet is able to work its way It handsome
acknowledged in Griswold aud in all other collection
American poetry. In our own Judgment the poor
He'd Barnet in the Knckcrbocker Gallery has a
ieh merit as anything which the author has writ
d. In proof that Maya has made no mistake We wi
W mriher quote poem from the aforesaid little vo
ne which We think has strength and tenderness an
auty. Il Is called