Classic Poem

Ah ! bleak and barren was the moor,
Ah! loud and piercing was the storm,
The cottage roof was sheltered sure,
The cottage hearth was bright and warm
An orphan boy the lattice pass'd,
And, as he marked its cheerful glow,
Felt doubly keen the midnight blast,
And doubly cold the fallen snow.

They mark'd him as he onward press'd,
With fainting heart and weary limb;
Kind voices bade him turn and rest,
And gentle faces welcomed him.
The dawn is up—the guest is gone,
The cottage hearth is blazing still:
Heaven pity all poor wanderers lone!
Hark to the wind upon the hill!