The Frost On The Pane

Upon my glass at daybreak
Breathe star-built bluff and byre
And fir and fern and forest
Of incandescent fire.

Compelling cloud and mistral,
That changed the air afar,
Locked close that lea of crystal
And wrought its every star.

What fused ten million crystals
In just that bluff and lea,
Fates far as clouds and mistrals,
Made what I am of me.

Gone fir and frond and forest
And vanished blue and byre
When through my glass at noon-day
I see the sky's blue fire.

And light and still I wonder
To think of time when I
Shall be as ether under
The splendor of the sky.