Prarie

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Where yesterday rolled long waves of gold
  Beneath the burnished blue of the sky,
A silver-white sea lies still and cold,
  And a bitter wind blows by.

But nothing passes the door all day,
  Though my watching eyes grow worn and dim,
Save a lean, grey wolf that swings away
  To the far horizon rim.

Then, one by one, the stars glisten out
  Like frozen tears on a purple pall--
The darkness folds my cabin about
  And the snow begins to fall.

I will make a hearth-fire red and bright
  And set a light by the window pane
For one who follows the trail to-night
  That will bring him home again.

Love will ride with him my heart to bless--
  Joy will out-step him across the floor--
What matters the great white loneliness
  When we bar the cabin door?

© Virna Sheard