Part V.
Winter set in . . . A wintery gale moans;
From the hearth glowing warmth slowly spreads . . .
The fireplace roars . . . grandmother nods and drones
Once again girls spin flax into threads.
Hum and whirl my spinning wheel,
The end of Advent soon shall peal
And closer, close comes Christmas Day.
Hail you wondrous Christmas Eve,
You night of magic art,
Whenever I think of you
Something stabs me through the heart.
Like today it was we sat
A year ago together,
And before a year passed by
Two are gone forever.
One with a shawl about her head,
Her infant’s clothes is heaping.
O’er the other, for three long months
The Earth and the Skies are weeping,
Yonder where Marie is sleeping.
Like today it was we sat
As now and yesterday,
And before a year goes by
Whither shall we stray?
Hum and whirl my spinning wheel,
All in this world has a short appeal,
And human life is but a Dream.
’Tis better to dream in hopes that are vain,
In sheerest darkness to grope about,
Than to have our future revealed starkly plain
And to know our unchangeable lot.
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