by Frank Dempster Sherman
The air is keen, the sky is clear;
The wind has gone in whispers down;
And, gleaming in the atmosphere,
A jewel, lies the lighted town.
The winter's mantle stretches white
Upon the roofs and streets below;
All hushed the noises of the night
Against the bosom of the snow.
The Moon from her blue dwelling-place
Smiles over all, so pale, so fair,
It seems the Earth's wan, winter face
Reflected in a mirror there.
Far off the lonely trees uplift
Their naked branches like the spars
Of some deserted ship adrift
Under a canopy of stars.
It is the darkened world that rides
The sea of space, forever drawn
By secret winds and mighty tides
Unto the harbor of the Dawn!
Source:Lyrics For A Lute
Boston and New York, Houghton, Mifflin, and Company