Silent is the house
All are laid asleep
One alone looks out
O'er the snow wreaths deep

Watching every cloud
Dreading every breeze
That whirls the wildering drifts
And bends the groaning trees

Cheerful is the hearth
Soft the matted floor
Not one shivering gust
Creeps through pane and door

The little lamp burns straight
Its rays shoot strong and far
I trim it well to be
The wanderers guiding star

Frown my haughty sire
Chide my angry dame
Set your slaves to spy
Threaten me with shame

But neither sire nor dame
Nor prying serf shall know
What angel nightly tracks
That waste of winter snow

What I love shall come
Like visitant of air
Safe in secret power
From lurking human snare

Who loves me no word of mine
Shall o'er betray
Though for faith unstained
My life must forfeit pay

Burn then little lamp
Glimmer straight and clear
Hush a rusting wind stirs
Me thinks the air

He for whom I wait
Thus ever comes to me
Strange power I trust your might
Trust thou my constancy