My window-pane is starred with frost, <br />The world is bitter cold to-night, <br />The moon is cruel, and the wind <br />Is like a two-edged sword to smite. <br /> <br />God pity all the homeless ones, <br />The beggars pacing to and fro. <br />God pity all the poor to-night <br />Who walk the lamp-lit streets of snow. <br /> <br />My room is like a bit of June, <br />Warm and close-curtained fold on fold, <br />But somewhere, like a homeless child, <br />My heart is crying in the cold.<br /><br />Sara Teasdale<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-winter-night-3/
