| |
| SPEED on, speed on, good Master! | |
| The camp lies far away; | |
| We must cross the haunted valley | |
| Before the close of day. | |
| |
| How the snow-blight came upon me | 5 |
| I will tell you as I go,— | |
| The blight of the Shadow-hunter | |
| Who walks the midnight snow. | |
| |
| To the cold December heaven | |
| Came the pale moon and the stars, | 10 |
| As the yellow sun was sinking | |
| Behind the purple bars. | |
| |
| The snow was deeply drifted | |
| Upon the ridges drear, | |
| That lay for miles around me | 15 |
| And the camps for which we steer. | |
| |
| ’T was silent on the hill-side, | |
| And by the solemn wood, | |
| No sound of life or motion | |
| To break the solitude, | 20 |
| |
| Save the wailing of the moose-bird | |
| With a plaintive note and low, | |
| And the skating of the red leaf | |
| Upon the frozen snow. | |
| |
| And said I, “Though dark is falling, | 25 |
| And far the camp must be, | |
| Yet my heart it would be lightsome | |
| If I had but company.” | |
| |
| And then I sang and shouted, | |
| Keeping measure, as I sped, | 30 |
| To the harp-twang of the snow-shoe | |
| As it sprang beneath my tread. | |
| |
| Nor far into the valley | |
| Had I dipped upon my way, | |
| When a dusky figure joined me, | 35 |
| In a capuchon of gray, | |
| |
| Bending upon the snow-shoes, | |
| With a long and limber stride; | |
| And I hailed the dusky stranger | |
| As we travelled side by side. | 40 |
| |
| But no token of communion | |
| Gave he by word or look, | |
| And the fear-chill fell upon me, | |
| At the crossing of the brook. | |
| |
| For I saw by the sickly moonlight | 45 |
| As I followed, bending low, | |
| That the walking of the stranger | |
| Left no footmarks on the snow. | |
| |
| Then the fear-chill gathered o’er me, | |
| Like a shroud around me cast, | 50 |
| As I sank upon the snow-drift | |
| Where the Shadow-hunter passed. | |
| |
| And the other trappers found me, | |
| Before the break of day, | |
| With my dark hair blanched and whitened | 55 |
| As the snow in which I lay. | |
| |
| But they spoke not as they raised me; | |
| For they knew that in the night | |
| I had seen the Shadow-hunter | |
| And had withered in his blight. | 60 |
| |
| Sancta Maria speed us! | |
| The sun is falling low, | |
| Before us lies the valley, | |
| Of the Walker of the Snow! | |
| |
