Family Tree Home
Front Cover
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(at the cabin)

  Lofty Pikes Peak stands high above the dark green wood
Like the shadow of a ghost, promising no good;
But soon a brilliant star, its point hung on the crest,
And the big round moon, dressed in his Sunday best,
Will rise above and bathe the sleeping monster
With a silvery gleam, making a picture
No artist could paint or even dream, but bringing
A vision of wintertime following close behind;
Oh well, let the winter come, it will find
Us ready to welcome the ice and snow
And all the blustery winds from the heavens that blow,
It will blow for naught against our cabin door
As we stack high the logs that fires may roar
And cast their lights across the hearth, with flames
To sway like ripened grain on stormy nights,
For we all snug and warm will know
That beauty sleeps beneath the snow.