Let Winter come! let polar spirits sweep The darkening world, and tempest-troubled deep! Though boundless snows the withered heath deform, And the dim sun scarce wanders through the storm, Yet shall the smile of social love repay, With mental light, the melancholy day! And, when its short and sullen noon is o'er, The ice-chained waters slumbering on the shore, How bright the fagots in his little hall Blaze on the hearth, and warm the pictured wall!
Hark! Hark! my soul, angelic songs are swellingO’er earth’s green fields and ocean’s wave-beat shore;How sweet the truth those blessed strains are tellingOf that new life when sin shall be no more.frederick William faber