'Tis cold beyond the forest deep,
White-coated trees and snowy farms,
Wild friends caught on their longest sleep,
Keeping warm in winter's arms.
Cloaked by the clouds of morrow's snow,
The stars peek through bringing dreams,
Lulled by december winds that blow,
O'er still lakes and chuckling streams.
At the music of wolves' howls,
The northern lights dance ablaze,
Upon the wings of snowy owls,
The morning's misty light gives praise.
Yet we must not stand idle,
Lest the crippling cold takes hold,
On windows does the frost sidle,
Sculpting art of beauty untold.
On december's coldest night,
For wishes of a safe homestead,
Ye may set a yule log alight,
As Jack Frost's cheers merrily spread.
'Tis cold beyond the shrouded stars,
Blinded by nature's artic charms,
Yet we honor with our memoirs,
And greet winter with open arms.