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RALPH HOYT
American clergyman, devotional writer and poet
(1810 - 1878)

'Tis winter, yet there is no sound
  Along the air
    Of winds along their battle-ground;
      But gently there
        The snow is falling,--all around.
      - [Winter]

The blessed morn has come again;
  The early gray
    Taps at the slumberer's window pane,
      And seems to say,
        Break, break from the enchanter's chain,
          Away, away!
      - Snow--A Winter Sketch [Morning]

Last Revised: 2008 April 9
Copyright © 1999-2008 John C. Shepard. All Rights Reserved.
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