Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r The moping owl does to the moon complain.

Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinkling…

Each in his narrow cell forever laid, The rude Forefathers of the hamlet sleep.

The Curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness…

When men were all asleep the snow came flying, In large white flakes falling on the city brown, Stealthily and perpetually settling and loosely lying, Hushing …

The greenish sky glows up in misty reds, The purple shadows turn to brick and stone, The dreams wear thin, men turn upon their beds, And hear the milk-cart jan…

The snow had begun in the gloaming, And busily all the night Had been heaping field and highway With a silence deep and white.