Lights low, the day is slow and fingers
Are trembling on the winter wind
Though long ago my living lingers
It runs awry again within
Askew anew the sky has tilted
Another sunset, cold and dry
That crimson dark’d for’ver filtered
Away is slipping on the sly
The darkness pouring, stars delighted
Are sketching odd and curvy light
How longer more the senseless fighting
Are beating up the day to night
Lights low, the day is no and ringers
Abound are found on frozen ground
Pour down the night! On, wretched singers
Whose ears are touch’d by winter sound