When the wind works against us in the dark

And pelts with snow

The lower chamber window on the east

And whispers with a sort of stifled bark

The beast

“Come out! Come out!”—

It costs no inward struggle not to go

Ah do!

I count our strength

Two and a child

Those of us not asleep subdued to mark

How the cold creeps as the fire dies at length—

How drifts are piled

Dooryard and road ungraded

Till even the comforting barn grows far away

And my heart owns a doubt

Whether ’tis in us to arise with day

And save ourselves unaided.