he air is silent save where stirs
A bugling breeze among the firs;

The virgin world in white array
Waits for the bridegroom kiss of day;

All heaven blooms rarely in the east
Where skies are silvery and fleeced,

And o'er the orient hills made glad
The morning comes in wonder clad;

Oh, 'tis a time most fit to see
How beautiful the dawn can be!

ide, sparkling fields snow-vestured lie
Beneath a blue, unshadowed sky;

A glistening splendor crowns the woods
And bosky, whistling solitudes;

In hemlock glen and reedy mere
The tang of frost is sharp and clear;

Life hath a jollity and zest,
A poignancy made manifest;

Laughter and courage have their way
At noontide of a winter's day.

aint music rings in wold and dell,
The tinkling of a distant bell,

Where homestead lights with friendly glow
Glimmer across the drifted snow;

Beyond a valley dim and far
Lit by an occidental star,

Tall pines the marge of day beset
Like many a slender minaret,

Whence priest-like winds on crystal air
Summon the reverent world to prayer.

   Lucy Maud Montgomery, 1874-1942