Upon the sparkling snow clear shadows lay
The moon flung eastward,—as if so the day,
Whose unseen coming seemed to fill the air,
They yearning sought with outstretched arms of prayer.
A sound of bells from far-off towers broke,
The frosty silence with their pealing woke,
And answering bells flung back across the sky
The Christmas morning’s glad, earth-echoed cry.
Dark, muffled figures with quick, constant tread
O’er glittering ice and snowy pathway sped—