Look Wife the clouds are full of snow
A few large flakes already fall
The cold north wind begins to blow
White hills will soon be piled o'er all
Haste we before the drifts are deep
To house the kine and fold the sheep

I come — the sheep are scattered wide
Ere all are safe the night will close
I led them up to Parret's side
Where green the winter grass still grows
Stranger beside the hearth remain
Keep guard till we return again

Take heed — unclose the door to none
A Dane might knock — a wolf might howl
For always after set of sun
Things strange & fierce these forests prowl

The herdsman and his wife are gone
The passive guest remains alone
He draws his oaken tripod near
The wood-fire burning red and clear

Docile he turns the barley-cake
Placed on the heated stone to bake
He brings more wood and seems with care
To tend the simple evening-fare
This done he folds his arms again
And thoughts disturbed resume their train

" 'Tis Christmas-eve — I mark the date
(Thus did he self-communing say)
Here lone I sit — before me Fate
Arrested, seems her course to stay
And having done her worst, to stand
With blade depressed and weary hand

Her stony gaze is on my eyes
Her dark-bent brow confronts my own
She seems to ask — " Who yet defies
Disaster that so deep has gone?
What heart beneath my blunted knife
Still quivers with the throb of life —
His efforts one by one defeated
His arms disgraced — his friends dismayed
His troops to mountain holds retreated
Vanquished or sold, refuse him aid
And he lives still and still he dares
To search for hope 'mongst myriad fears