The Wintry Day Descending to its Close

The wintry day, descending to its close,
Invites all wearied nature to repose,
And shades of night are falling dense and fast,
Like sable curtains closing o'er the past.
Pale through the gloom the newly fallen snow
Wraps in a shroud the silent earth below
As tho 'twere mercy's hand had spread the pall,
A symbol of forgiveness unto all.

I cannot go to rest, but linger still
In meditation at my windowsill,
While, like the twinkling stars in heaven's dome,
Come one by one sweet memories of home.
And wouldst thou ask me where my fancy roves
To reproduce the happy scenes it loves,
Where hope and memory together dwell
And paint the pictured beauties that I tell?

--Orson F. Whitney, 1855-1931