Ah! bleak and barren was the moor, <br />Ah! loud and piercing was the storm, <br />The cottage roof was shelter'd sure, <br />The cottage hearth was bright and warm— <br />An orphan-boy the lattice pass'd, <br />And, as he mark'd its cheerful glow, <br />Felt doubly keen the midnight blast, <br />And doubly cold the fallen snow. <br /> <br />They marked him as he onward press'd, <br />With fainting heart and weary limb; <br />Kind voices bade him turn and rest, <br />And gentle faces welcomed him. <br />The dawn is up—the guest is gone, <br />The cottage hearth is blazing still: <br />Heaven pity all poor wanderers lone! <br />Hark to the wind upon the hill!<br /><br />William Makepeace Thackeray<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ah-bleak-and-barren-was-the-moor/
