This is a sad time for the shrubs that do not perish with the summer ; they neither live nor die ; what they retain of life seems but the chilling sense of death . Very sad are the flower shrubs in midwinter ! The roofs of the houses are now all white , save where the eddying wind has kept them bare at the bleak corners . To discern the real intensity of the storm , we must fix upon some distant object , -- as yonder spire,-and observe how the riotous gust fights with the descending snow throughout the intervening space . Sometimes the entire prospect is obscured ; then , again , we have a distinct , but transient glimpse of the tall steeple , like a giant 's ghost ; and now the dense wreaths sweep between , as if demons were flinging snowdrifts at each other , in mid-air . Look next into the street , where we have seen an amusing parallel to the combat of those fancied demons in the upper regions . It is a snow-battle of school-boys . What a pretty satire on war and military glory might be written , in the form of a child 's story , by describing the snowball-fights of two rival schools , the alternate defeats and victories of each , and the final triumph of one party , or perhaps of neither ! What pitched battles , worthy to be chanted in Homeric strains ! What storming of fortresses , built all of massive snowblocks ! What feats of individual prowess , and embodied onsets of martial enthusiasm ! And when some well-contested and decisive victory had put a period to the war , both armies should unite to build a lofty monument of snow upon the battle-field , and crown it with the victor 's statue , hewn of the same frozen marble . In a few days or weeks thereafter , the passer-by would observe a shapeless mound upon the level common ; and , unmindful of the famous victory , would ask , `` How came it there ? Who reared it ? And what means it ? '' The shattered pedestal of many a battle monument has provoked these questions , when none could answer . Turn we again to the fireside , and sit musing there , lending our ears to the wind , till perhaps it shall seem like an articulate voice , and dictate wild and airy matter for the pen . Would it might inspire me to sketch out the personification of a New England winter ! And that idea , if I can seize the snow-wreathed figures that flit before my fancy , shall be the theme of the next page . How does Winter herald his approach ?
By the shrieking blast of latter autumn , which is Nature 's cry of lamentation , XXXXX the destroyer rushes among the shivering groves where she has lingered , and scatters the sear leaves upon the tempest .
In To as at before for if like of throughout