Historical poem (1888)
By William Wilfred Campbell, 1888
Outside, over bleak land and forest,
Loud drive the gust demons of night,
And under, stretched cheerless and eyrie,
The world lies all shrouded in white.
Dark blows the smoke of our chimney
Down under the half hidden moon,
Where close with a ghastlier shadow,
The elm boughs creak a weird tune.
Barred close is each window and shutter,
Warm, warm is the blaze of our fire,
What care we for bleak, cheerless winter?
And all his wild hordes in their ire?
No matter how cold and how bitter
The gust with its wind and its snow,
If Love but sit here by our firelight
And add his glad warmth to its glow.
No matter how wild be the storming
Of night on his bleak winter shore,
If the angel of peace and contentment
Brood over wall, rafter and door.
Maintaining this website (which you are enjoying for free!) takes a lot of time and resources.
Please show your support for all our hard work by telling your friends about Sarah's books —and by buying them yourself, too, of course!
Tales of Chetzemoka
If our website has been helpful to you, please consider making a cash donation.
Your generous support helps us maintain this website and continue our outreach, so that we can keep teaching others about the history we love.
Everything helps and is appreciated!
Search this website: