But what dismal equipage now struggles along the uneven street ? A sable hearse , bestrewn with snow , is bearing a dead man through the storm to his frozen bed . O , how dreary is a burial in winter , when the bosom of Mother Earth has no warmth for her poor child ! Evening -- the early eve of December -- begins to spread its deepening veil over the comfortless scene ; the firelight gradually brightens , and throws my flickering shadow upon the walls and ceiling of the chamber ; but still the storm rages and rattles , against the windows . Alas ! I shiver , and think it time to be disconsolate . But , taking a farewell glance at dead Nature in her shroud , I perceive a flock of snow-birds , skimming lightsomely through the tempest , and flitting from drift to drift , as sportively as swallows in the delightful prime of summer . Whence come they ? Where do they build their nests , and seek their food ? Why , having airy wings , do they not follow summer around the earth , instead of making themselves the playmates of the storm , and fluttering on the dreary verge of the winter 's eve ? Every Sabbath morning in the summer time I thrust back the curtain , to watch the sunrise stealing down a steeple , which stands opposite my chamber-window . First , the weathercock begins to flash ; then , a fainter lustre gives the spire an airy aspect ; next it encroaches on the tower , and causes the index of the dial to glisten like gold , as it points to the gilded figure of the hour . Now , the loftiest window gleams , and now the lower . The carved framework of the portal is marked strongly out . At length , the morning glory , in its descent from heaven , comes down the stone steps , one by one ; and there stands the steeple , glowing with fresh radiance , while the shades of twilight still hide themselves among the nooks of the adjacent buildings . Methinks , though the same sun brightens it every fair morning , yet the steeple has a peculiar robe of brightness for the Sabbath . By dwelling near a church , a person soon contracts an attachment for the edifice . We naturally personify it , and conceive its massive walls and its dim emptiness to be instinct with a calm , and meditative , and somewhat melancholy spirit . But the steeple stands foremost , in our thoughts , as well as locally . It impresses us as a giant , with a mind comprehensive and discriminating enough to care for the great and small concerns of all the town .
Hourly , while it speaks a moral to the few that think , it reminds thousands XXXXX busy individuals of their separate and most secret affairs .
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