Classic Poem

The night is cold and frosty;
The leaden clouds have flown;
The air is pure and bracing,
And the moon shines out alone.

The earth is wrapt in whiteness;
The hoar-frost on the snow,
Doth throw a ray like jewels,
In the moonlight's icy glow.

The distant sounds ring clearly,
Upon the list'ning ear;
The earth is 'live with noises
Of the gay world, making cheer.

O'er some the night spreads pleasure;
O'er some her sorrow broods,
A complex mass of people,
In a thousand dif'rent moods.

Here is the step elastic
With pulses beating high;
There is the slow and falt'ring,
Fraught with many a heavy sigh.

With smiling face, paternal,
As he the future plan,
For his young and thoughtful children,
Goes the happy fam'ly man.

The night holds for him, gladness;
His distant welcome light,
His children's gay shouts, coasting —
Spreads a glamour o'er the night.

And list the merry laughter,
In yonder gliding sleigh;
The clear bell's merry jingle,
And fiery horses' neigh?

'Tis easy for the list'ners,
Who note their merriment,
To read the fair night's meaning,
To those thoughtless hearts, content.

And lo, there goes the mourner,
In sable garments drest;
Bowed down with bitter sorrow —
O'er a dearest friend bereft.

To him the moon shines coldly;
The mirth that's to him blown,
Is but a harsh reminder,
That he sadly grieves alone.

Likewise in yonder prison,
The moonlight through the grates,
Stirs sad dreams in the guilty,
Of the doom, that he awaits.

Oh night! possessed by many,
Each in a dif'rent mood,
I waver in my singing,
To regard thee bad or good.

But may the brightness gleaming,
A worthy symbol prove,
To the desolate and restless,
Of radiant heav'nly love.