Storm-bound.

My careful plans all storm-subdued,     In disappointing solitude         The weary hours began;     And scarce I deemed when time had sped,     Marked only by the passing tread         Of some pedestrian.     But with the morrow's tranquil dawn,     A fairy scene I looked upon         That filled me with delight;     Far-reaching from my own abode,     The world in matchless splendor glowed,         Arrayed in spotless white.     The surface of the hillside slope     Gleamed in my farthest vision's scope         Like opalescent stone;     Rich jewels hung on every tree,     Whose crystalline transparency         Golconda's gems outshone.     Beyond the line where wayside posts     Stood up, like fear-inspiring ghosts         Of awful form and mien,     A mansion tall, my neighbor's pride,     A seeming castle fortified,         Uprose in wondrous sheen.     The evergreens loomed up before     My staunch and storm-defying door,         Like snowy palaces     That one dare only penetrate     With reverence - as at Heaven's gate,         Awed by its mysteries.     The apple trees' extended arms     Upheld a thousand varied charms;         The curious tracery     Of trellised grapevine seemed to me     A rare network of filigree         In silver drapery.     And I no longer thought it hard     From favorite pursuits debarred,         Nor gazed with rueful face;     For every object seemed to be     Invested with the witchery         Of magic art and grace.     And, though a multitude of cares,     Perplexing, profitless affairs,         Absorbed the hours, it seems     That on the golden steps of thought     I mounted heavenward, and wrought         Out many hopeful schemes.     Thus every day, though it may span     The gulf wherein some cherished plan         Lies disarranged and crossed,     If, ere its close, we shall have trod     The path that leads us nearer God,         Cannot be counted lost.