All shrouded in the winter snow,
The maiden held her way;
Nor chilly winds that roughly blow,
Nor dark night could her stay.

O'er hill and dale, through bush and briar,
She on her journey kept;
Save often when she 'gan to tire,
She stop'd awhile and wept.

Wild creatures left their caverns drear,
To raise their nightly yell;
But little doth the bosom fear,
Where inward troubles dwell.

No watch-light from the distant spire,
To cheer the gloom so deep,
Nor twinkling star, nor cottage fire
Did thro' the darkness peep.

Yet heedless still she held her way,
Nor fear'd the crag nor dell;
Like ghost that thro' the gloom to stray,
Wakes with the midnight bell.

Now night thro' her dark watches ran,
Which lock the peaceful mind;
And thro' the neighb'ring hamlets 'gan
To wake the yawning hind.