It freezes- all across a soundless sky <br />The birds go home. The governing dark's begun: <br />The steadfast dark that waits not for a sun; <br />The ultimate dark wherein the race shall die. <br /> <br />Death, with his evil finger to his lip, <br />Leers in at human windows, turning spy <br />To learn the country where his rule shall lie <br />When he assumes perpetual generalship. <br /> <br />The undefeated enemy, the chill <br />That shall benumb the voiceful earth at last, <br />Is master of our moment, and has bound <br />The viewless wind it-self. There is no sound. <br />It freezes. Every friendly stream is fast. <br />It freezes; and the graven twigs are still.<br /><br />Hilaire Belloc<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/month-of-january/
