Amid the little ones? He only heard
The heave of breasts which unknown dreams had crossed,
Such dreams as stir the lips but make no word,
And heard his own heart beat like an o’er-wearied bird!
A noise—a tramp amid the crisping snow—
Startled his ear! A large, imploring eye
Gleamed at the window with unearthly glow!
Was’t the grim panther which had ventured nigh?
Or ghost condemned—or spirit of the sky?
To grasp the gun his hand contained no force—