Hark to the storm. It is a fearful night; —
A night of piercing cold and whirling snow,
And drifts that loom like ghosts in sheeted white,
Heaped by the tempest in its mad delight,
But, fiercely as the ice winds may blow,
Sweep as they may across these open lands, —
Low is our cabin and so safely stands.

Come, leave your work, and sit beside the fire,
The storm may roar and beat the frosted pane,
And at the bolted door may tug and strain;
Safe is our shelter though the strife be dire,
And warm as if but dropped the summer rain,
The lamp burns brightly, and this quiet room
Seems like a heaven — if such a thing could be —
Besieged by tempests, wrapped in midnight gloom,
Encompassed by a wild and heaving sea,
While round us howl the demons of the night,
How passing sweet this calm, and warmth, and light.

What ails you, Love? Why is your cheek so white?
How start and shiver — what is it you feel?
Sure we are safe, and naught can harm us here.
You have a groan? Why, that but goes to show
What tricks a woman's pity loves to play
Upon her fears. Be calm, I pray.
'Twas but a wilder gust, and you should know,
No living thing would venture out to-night.


A winter morn. The fierce, wild night is gone;
The mad winds, overspent, have sunk to rest;
Their work remains. The prairie's frozen breast
Lies heaped with hills beneath the splendid dawn.
Come out and look, it is a goodly sight —
These spotless ranges sparkling in the sun;
The still, white world created into night.

The paths are blocked. A pity 'tis to soil
These spotless drifts; yet, what the night wind rears
Must man destroy at morn. The spade must
Spoil our Alpine scenery — but, oh! what's here?
A something harder than the wind-packed snow
Resists the blade. 'Tis mine to shudder now,
And shrink and shiver with a sickening fear.
A still white face the fresh piled drift below,
A frozen form wrapped in a shroud of white
Flung round it by the black hands of night.
The dead, white face, the form, too well I know,
Had I but heeded what you said last night!
You heard a cry through all the gusty roar;
I laughed and said 'twas but the wind, and so
Here lies my neighbor, frozen at my door.