The dusk of the evening, with winter stars growing Out from blue, breaking thro' hanging low cloud banks snowing; With the long dark street hush'd under banked branches bowing Over walks waiting deep under blind paths' blurr'd strowing; With the red lamplight under high-pitched grey roofs, growing Dim, distant. The old mill-front frowning, blank, glooming Down on glad revels glimpsed thro' the swung door's swift looming; On the appeal of the windows, with gay pageant gleaming, And child-faces pressed to the pane—drifting—dreaming. Past today's tender thankfulness, child-longings borrow High hopes and fair dreams for God's perfect tomorrow And love's perfect round. Trailing, hushed snowflakes clinging To the pickets' piled points, past the low-hung gate swinging, Lead the homing feet back as the long hushed street darkens Under low-hanging stars; and waiting hearts hearken, Circled close round the fireside flanked by massed greens arboral, Over loves cradled sacrament; while earth's mighty choral Sweeps—the song of the angels, the dawn-burst auroral, The star and the manger—down the white night; and, together, With His promise, His peace, His good gifts—together— We wait with the stars thro' His weather, God's weather. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAUSANNE: IN GIBBON'S OLD GARDEN by THOMAS HARDY GRIN by ROBERT WILLIAM SERVICE ON A JUNIPER-TREE, CUT DOWN TO MAKE BUSKS by APHRA BEHN MY HIDING PLACE AND ME by BARBARA BROOKS BIXLEY A WATERPIECE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |