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Snowflakes
and Sunbeams
by
William Wilfred Campbell
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THE
PASSING YEAR
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LIKE
vikings came the rude blasts of November
Chanting aloud the death song
of the year;
Sadder and bleaker came the pale December,
With haggard woods and fitful dying ember,
And leaves all dead and sere, |
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| Withered
and sere.
I
sit alone where the bright hearth-logs gleaming
Into the gusty night red sparks
do send;
The chimney’s moan doth answer to my dreaming,
And the old year hath to me all the seeming |
10 |
| Of
a familiar friend,
An
old but vanished friend.
Bloweth
the winter, from his forest leaping,
Loud Boreas cometh from bleak
arctic field,
Cometh with white gust in the midnight sweeping,
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15 |
And
findeth the Old Year like some Norse-king sleeping
Upon his battle shield,
With
white locks, on his shield. |
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