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