A  MYRIAD frail and tiny things

 Let lose from heaven with silver wings

Birds without song they seem to be, 

Or white ships on a misty sea.

On crags of cloud they, wrecked, go down 

To drift o'er forest, field, and town.

The trees stretch out their brawny arms, 

And they are clad with jeweled charms.

The gateposts don their crowns of white, 

And mantled is the distant height.

The schoolboy's heart is jubilant 

Upon the nearest roadside slant.

He freights his sled with laughing girls, 

With cheeks of rose and glossy curls.

The sleigh-bells chant their winter chime 

Preluding Merry Christmas time

The brook puts on a muffled tone

With trebles on its keys of stone.

Inside the door the cheerful grate 

Keeps summer time with joy elate.

The loving heart devoutly prays, 

And goes its way with words of praise. 

  Dwight Williams.