I

Roaring winds that rocked the crow, High in his eyrie, All night long, and to and fro Swung the cedar and drove the snow Out of the North, have ceased to blow, And dawn breaks fiery.

Sing, Ho, a song of the winter dawn, When the air is still and the clouds are gone, And the snow lies deep on hill and lawn, And the old clock ticks, “’Tis time! ’tis time!” And the household rises with many a yawn-- Sing, Ho, a song of the winter dawn! Sing, Ho!