The snow lies crisp beneath the stars.
On roofs and on the ground,
Late footsteps crunch along the paths,
There is no other sound.
So cold it is the very trees
Snap in the rigid frost,
A dreadful night to think on them, —
The homeless and the lost.
The dead sleep sheltered in the tomb;
The rich drink in the hall;
The Virgin and the Holy Child
Crouch shivering in a stall.
Robert Hillyer (1895-1961)
from Sonnets, and other lyrics, 1917
[Poem is in the public domain in Canada and the United States]
Robert Hillyer biography