The Ohio Organ, Of The Temperance Reform

From the Louisville Times.

WINTER.

Winter has come with his mantle of snow,
A smile on his lips and a frown on his brow,
The wild whistling wind in his merciless breath,
That leaves in its passage a shadow of death.

There's a land far away in a desolate clime,
Where his kingdom is held through all ages of
Endless time:
His reign is eternal, his power supreme,
His crown is of icebergs all sparkling with sheen.

'Tis a land where the birds cannot dwell, nor the
flowers,
Where the days are unmarked by the swift passing
hours;
No verdure appears to enrapture the eye,
But a desolate waste 'neath a desolate sky.

His dwelling I've heard is the bleak frigid zone,
Where the sun in its glory has yet never shone;
Its couches are mountains of ice, where alone

Old Winter reclines when his labors are done.

His subjects are nations of every degree,
From ocean to ocean, from sea unto sea;
All fearless and bold, he comes blustering along
With a hurricane blast for his heralding song.

I've seen this same Winter, when Luna at night
Had risen to brighten the earth with her light,
Come storming along with his withering blast,
Leaving all but a horrible wreck where he passed!

Then Luna in fear from her window withdrew,
The sky lost its beauty, its starlighted hue;
Not a twinkle was seen, not even a cloud,
And darkness enveloped the whole in her shroud.

When morning appeared, all the hills and the
trees
Were clothed in white garments, and even the
breeze
Was sharp as the sword that a hero has carried-
The streams were all covered, their bright waters
buried.

But his trumpet I hear sounding over the hill.
And the voice of the streamlet, once plaintive, is
shrill;
I must hasten away, like the birds and the flowers,
To a land that is brighter and fairer than ours.

BELLE.