Snowflakes and Sunbeams

by William Wilfred Campbell


 

IN THE STUDY


 

OUT over my study,
   All ashen and ruddy,
Sinks the December sun;
   And high up over
   The chimney’s soot cover,
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The winter night wind has begun.

   Here in the red embers
   I dream old Decembers,
Until the low moan of the blast,
   Like a voice out of Ghost-land,

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    Or memory’s lost-land,
Seems to conjure up wraiths of the past.

   Then into the room
   Through the firelight and gloom,
Some one steals,—let the night-wind grow bleak,

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   And ever so coldly,—
   Two white arms enfold me,
And a sweet face is close to my cheek.