Classic Poem

Desolate , dark and dreary
The dawning Christmas morn,
Desolate, dark and dreary
This day that Christ was born.

Quietly, slowly, softly,
The snow sinks as a cloud,
Quietly, slowly, softly,
The snow falls like a shroud.

Silently, surely, weary,
The sentries pace their beat,
Silently, surely, weary,
The lagging hours we meet.

Imprisoned, lonely, hoping,
The future is our goal,
Imprisoned, lonely, hoping,
Time takes of us her toll.