Just as the school came out
The first white flakes were drifting round about,
And all the children shouted with delight
To see such flakes, so big, so white,
Tumbling from a cloud so black
And whirling helter-skelter
Across the windy moor;
And, as they saw the light flakes race,
Started off in headlong chase,
Swooping on them with a shout
When they seemed to drop for shelter
Underneath the dry-stone wall.

And then the master at the schoolhouse door
Called out to them to hurry home before
The storm should come on worse, and watched till all
Had started off by road or moorland track,
When, turning to his wife, he said
It looked like dirty weather overhead:
He thought 'twould be a heavy fall
And threatened for a roughish night;
But they would all reach home in broad daylight:
'Twas early yet; he'd let the school out soon
As it had looked so lowering since forenoon,
And many had a goodish step to go,
And it was but ill-travelling in the snow:
Then by the fire he settled down to read
And to the weather paid no further heed.

And on their road home, full three miles away,
John and his little sister Janey started,
And at the setting out were happy-hearted
To be let loose into a world so gay
With jolly winds and frisking flakes at play
That flicked your cheek and whistled in your teeth;
And now hard on each other's heels they darted
To catch a flake that floated like a feather,
Then dropped to nestle in a clump of heather,
And often tumbled both together
Into a deep delicious bed
Of brown and springy heath:
But when the sky grew blacker overhead,
As if it were the coming on of night,
And every little hill, well known to sight,
Looked big and strange in its new fleece of white,
And as yet faster and more thickly
The big flakes fell,
To John the thought came that it might be well
To hurry home; so, striding on before,
He set a steady face across the moor
And called to Janey she must come more quickly.

The wind soon dropped, and fine and dry the snow
Came whispering down about them as they trudged,
And when they'd travelled for a mile or so
They found it ankle-deep, for here the storm
Had started long before it reached the school;
And as he felt the dry flakes tingling warm
Upon his cheek and set him all aglow,
John in his manly pride a little grudged
That now and then he had to wait a while
For Janey, lagging like a little fool;
But when they'd covered near another mile
Through that bewildering white without a sound
Save rustling, rustling, rustling all around,
And all his well-known world so queer and dim,
He waited until she caught up to him,
And felt quite glad that he was not alone.

And when they reached the low half-buried stone
That marked where some old shepherd had been found,
Lost in the snow in seeking his lost sheep
One wild March night full forty years ago,
He wished and wished that they were safe and sound
In their own home: and as the snow got deeper
And every little bank seemed strangely steeper,
He thought and thought of that lost sleeper
And saw him lying in the snow,
Till every fleecy clump of heath
Seemed to shroud a man beneath;
And now his blood went hot and cold
Through very fear of that dread sight,
And then he felt that in sheer fright
He must take to his heels in flight
He cared not whither, so that it might be
Where there were no more bundles cold and white
Like sheeted bodies plain to see.

And all on edge he turned to chide
His sister, dragging at his side;
But when he found that she was crying
Because her feet and hands were cold,
He quite forgot to scold
And spoke kind words of cheer to her,
And saw no more dead shepherds lying
In any snowy clump of heather.
So hand in hand they trudged together
Through that strange world of drifting gloam,
Sharp-set and longing sore for home.

And John remembered how that morning
When they set out the sky was blue —
Clean cloudless blue, and gave no warning;
And how through air as clear as glass
The far-off hills he knew
Looked strangely near and glittered brightly,
Each sprig of heath and blade of grass
In the cold wind blowing lightly,
Each clump of green and crimson moss
Sparkling in the wintry sun.

But now as they toiled home across
Those unfamiliar fells, nigh done,
The wind again began to blow,
And thicker, thicker fell the snow
Till Janey sank too numb to stir,
And John stooped down and lifted her
To carry her upon his back.
And then his head began to tire,
And soon he seemed to lose the track â?¦
And now the world was all afire â?¦
Now dazzling white, now dazzling black â?¦
And then, through some strange land of light
Where clouds of butterflies all white
Fluttered and flickered all about,
Dancing ever in and out,
He wandered, blinded by white wings
That rustled, rustled in his ears
With cold uncanny whisperings â?¦
And then it seemed his bones must crack
With that dead-weight upon his backâ?¦
When on his cheek he felt warm tears
And a cold tangle of wet hair,
And knew 'twas Janey weeping there;
And taking heart he stumbled on,
While in his breast the hearthlight shone,
And it was all of his desire
To sit once more before the fire
And feel the friendly glowing heat:
But as he strove with fumbling feet
It seemed that he would never find
Again that cheery hearth and kind,
But wander ever bent and blind
Beneath his burden through a night
Of dreadful spangly whispering white.

The wind rose and the dry snow drifted
In little eddies round the track,
And when at last the dark cloud rifted
He saw a strange lough, lying cold and black
'Mid unknown ghostly hills, and knew
That they were lost: and once again
The snow closed in and swept from view
The dead black water and strange fells.

But still he struggled on; and then,
When he seemed climbing up an endless steep
And ever slipping, sliding back
With ankles aching like to crack,
And only longed for sleep,
He heard a tinkly sound of bells
That kept on ringing, ringing, ringing,
Until his dizzy head was singing
And he could think of nothing else:
And then it seemed the weight was lifted
From off his back and on the ground
His sister stood, while all around
Were giants clad in coats of wool,
With big curled horns and queer black faces,
Who bobbed and curtsied in their places
With blazing eyes and strange grimaces,
But never made a sound,
Then nearly shook themselves to pieces,
Shedding round a smell of warm wet fleeces;
And one it seemed as if he knew,
Looking like the old lame ewe,
Began to bite his coat and pull
Till he could hardly stand, its eyes
Glowing to a monstrous size
Till they were like a lanthorn-light
Burning brightly in the nightâ?¦
When some one stooped from out the sky
To rescue him and set him high —
And he was riding snug and warm
In some king's chariot through the storm
Without a sound of wheel or hoof —
In some king's chariot filled with straw,
And he would never more be cold.â?¦

And then with wondering eyes he saw
Deep caverns of pure burning gold,
And knew himself in fairyland:
But when he stretched an eager hand
To touch the glowing walls he felt
A queer warm puff as though of fireâ?¦
And suddenly he felt
The reek of peat and, looking higher,
He saw the old black porridge-kettle
Hanging from the cavern roof, —
Hanging from its own black crook —
And he was lying on the settle,
While by his side
With tender look
His mother knelt,
And he had only one desire
In all the world and 'twas to fling
His arms about her neck and hide
His happy tears against her breast:
And as to her he closely pressed,
He heard his merry father sing —
There was a silly sleepyhead
Who thought he'd like to go to bed,
So in a stell he went to sleep
And snored among the other sheep.

And then his mother gently said:
Nay, father, do not tease him now:
He's quite worn out and needs a deal
Of quiet sleep; and after all
He brought his sister safe from school.
And now he felt her warm tears fall
Upon his cheek, and thrilled to feel
His father's hand on his hot brow
And hear him say: The lad's no fool .