ORPHEUS Cold lips and chaste eyes Of frost-fall that leap, That shake from the skies On the earth in her sleep Kiss nuptial, arise As the lyre-strings sweep! Come forth! I invoke thee, O frost, the valleys await thee and weep. THE FROST So silent and wise In her cerement clothes, So secretly lies My soul in my snows; T awake, I arise, For my spirit now knows The first time in her eyes That a voice may unclose My petals: I hear it; I come; I clasp the warm ground In my passion profound. ORPHEUS In valleys heaped high, In drifts lying low, Swift slopes to the sky, Come forth to me, snow! 42