The sun that was has now hidden
Under these white herculean clouds;
Icy chill has this atmosphere smitten,
This eve is falling,
Away its drawing the crowds,
Soon the orb will perplex
Into the darkness of the night.
These clouds begin to darken now,
And it hails with might.
Sundry visages are at the windows seen,
How bright firelight comes from within
As an aura of a spiritual being.
Every house's chimney reeks with smoke,
The essence of winter is in the air,
Which scatters the feeling of amour
As are the petals scattered with the blowing wind.
This hail is transposing
Into some delicate fibre still.
Croak of the crow is no more heard,
But sweet enchanting songs
Of nightingale and mynah are heard,
Which sing in joy and in fits to keep warm
In the roof of an unknown hut.
It seems as the man with long white beard is here,
Although the Yule is some days far.
All the surface and the trees
Have now a white blanket worn,
The snow flakes from the heaven
Have now begin to shed,
All thick and fluffy and not a single torn,
So calm and serene their falling seems
It is so bright and dear,
In profound thought one may sit and may disappear
Into that unknown world of divine
Each soul is wearing a look of gleam
For this is the first snow of this winter
This lovely evening.
In restlessness one may sleep,
In enigmatic dreams of wonder and cheer!
Dreams of fairies and of snow,
Of father christmas whom you know
Will pervade the libyranthine of the mind
For morrow is the day of joy and laughter,
Of playful acts of rolling in snow-clad hills and mounts
Playing with balls of snow,
And poking the nose of man of snow,
For this is the season such
Which will make your heart glow
Lke the silver bells of joy.
This hail is transposing
Into some delicate fibre still.
Croak of the crow is no more heard,
But sweet enchanting songs
Of nightingale and mynah are heard,
Which sing in joy and in fits to keep warm
In the roof of an unknown hut.
It seems as the man with long white beard is here,
Although the Yule is some days far.
All the surface and the trees
Have now a white blanket worn,
The snow flakes from the heaven
Have now begin to shed,
All thick and fluffy and not a single torn,
So calm and serene their falling seems
It is so bright and dear,
In profound thought one may sit and may disappear
Into that unknown world of divine
Each soul is wearing a look of gleam
For this is the first snow of this winter
This lovely evening.
In restlessness one may sleep,
In enigmatic dreams of wonder and cheer!
Dreams of fairies and of snow,
Of father christmas whom you know
Will pervade the libyranthine of the mind
For morrow is the day of joy and laughter,
Of playful acts of rolling in snow-clad hills and mounts
Playing with balls of snow,
And poking the nose of man of snow,
For this is the season such
Which will make your heart glow
Lke the silver bells of joy.
