Читать книгу Harper's Young People, December 30, 1879 - Various - Страница 1

From the quaint old farm-house, nestling warmly

'Neath its overhanging thatch of snow,

Out into the moonlight troop the children,

Filling all the air with music as they go,

Gliding, sliding,

Down the hill,

Never minding

Cold nor chill,

O'er the silvered

Moon-lit snow,

Swift as arrow

From the bow,

With a rush

Of mad delight

Through the crisp air

Of the night,

Speeding far out

O'er the plain,

Trudging gayly

Up again

To where the firelight's

Ruddy glow

Turns to gold

The silver snow.

Finer sport who can conceive

Than that of coasting New-Year's Eve?

Half the fun lies in the fire

That seems to brighter blaze and higher

Than any other of the year,

As though his dying hour to cheer,

And at the same time greeting give

To him who has a year to live.

'Tis built of logs of oak and pine,

Filled in with branches broken fine;

It roars and crackles merrily;

The children round it dance with glee;

They sing and shout and welcome in

The new year with a joyous din

That rings far out o'er hill and dale,

And warns the watchers in the vale

'Tis time the church bells to employ

To spread the universal joy.

Then the hill is left in silence

As the coasters homeward go,

And the crimson of the fire-light

Fades from off the trodden snow.

So the years glide by as swiftly

As the sleds rush down the hill,

And each new one as it cometh

Bringeth more of good than ill.