The earth is white with gleaming snow,
The lake one sheet of silver lies,
Beneath the morning’s ruddy glow,
The steaming vapors gently rise.
Keen is the cool and frosty air,
That waves the pine trees on the hill,
And voiceless as a whispered prayer,
Breathes down the valley clear and still.
Come, ’tis an hour to stir the blood
To glowing life in every vein!