But cold and dead by the hidden log
Are they who came from the town:
The man in his sleigh, and his faithful dog,
And his beautiful Morgan brown—
In the wide snow-desert, far and grand,
With his cap on his head and the reins in his hand—
The dog with his nose on his master’s feet,
And the mare half seen through the crusted sleet
Where she lay when she floundered down.
