III

Faint music rings in wold and dell,

The tinkling of a distant bell,

Where homestead lights with friendly glow Glimmer across the drifted snow;

Beyond a valley dim and far

Lit by an occidental star,

Tall pines the marge of day beset

Like many a slender minaret,

Whence priest-like winds on crystal air Summon the reverent world to prayer.

81