A WINTER’S NIGHT

I. When the wintry winds do howl, And the stars slide from their ken, I sat alone in the forest’s owl, With thoughts on where they’ve been.

II. For each sound of the nightingale, And echoing creek so bright, In the silence lapping, pale, Murmurs of the lost come bright.

III. With the trees a-barred, like guards, I prayed for the warmth of the sun, While shadows did steal with the yards, And I wrestled till day would run.

IV. That night shadows burrow deep From the wrath of the chasing doom, Yet listen, for the promise keeps, A bullet of dawn in the gloom.

• John Gibson Lockhart