Madison Cawein

A Song of the Snow

Sing, Ho, a song of the winter dawn,

When the air is still and the clouds are gone,

And the snow lies deep on hill and lawn,

And the old clock ticks, " 'Tis time! 'Tis time!"

And the household rises with many a yawn

Sing, Ho, a song of the winter dawn!

Sing, Ho!

Sing, Ho, a song of the winter sky
When the last star closes its icy eye
And deep in the road the snow-drifts lie,
And the old clock ticks, " 'Tis late! 'Tis late!"
And the flame on the hearth leaps red—leaps high
Sing, Ho, a song of the winter sky!
Sing, Ho!

Sing, Ho, a song of the winter morn
When the snow makes ghostly the wayside thorn,
And hills of pearl are the shocks of corn,
And the old clock ticks, "Tick-tock; tick-tock;"
And the goodman bustles about the barn
Sing, Ho, a song of the winter morn!
Sing, Ho!

Sing, Ho, a song of the winter day,
When ermine capped are the stocks of hay,
And the wood-smoke pillars the air with gray,
And the old clock ticks, "To work! To work!"
And the goodwife sings as she churns away
Sing, Ho, a song of the winter day!
Sing, Ho!