The Silent Town

A town lies in the valley

a pale day fades and dies

and it will not be long before

neither moon nor starlight

night only fills the skies.

From all the mountain ridges

creeps mist and swathes the town

No farm no house no wet red roof

can pierce the thickly worry woof

scarce even spires and bridges

But as the wanderer shudders

deep down a streak of light rejoices his heart

and through the smoke and haze

children's voices begin

a gentle hymn of praise