New Year’s Day in the Glen


DOWN in the darkened glen
Fell demons brood,
Waiting to ensnare all men
Who would intrude
On their solitude.

Gaunt trees creak in the breeze,
Tossing bare boughs,
But Sirius sinks with noiseless ease,
Doth no ghost rouse,
Not e’en a mouse.

He wakens beauty in the dell
As in and out
He weaves, and the foul demon’s spell
He casts to rout
With ne’er a shout!

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