Soon winter is upon us, The balsam, pine and spruce Withstand the cold and frost and snow Their limbs are bowed in truce. In hopes that they'll survive The rigors of the night. The snowshoe rabbit turns to white And plays beneath the moon. The fox and bobcat sneak about And end it all too soon. Lakes obtain a leaden hue.
Streams grow silent and succumb.
And beaver's food supplies renew. Too soon, the lakes groan neath the weight Of ice and heavy snow, Rending the night with creaks and moans, To tell their tale of woe. The temperature drops and sap runs slow. Disturbing the stillness Of cold and snow. Inside a log cabin, snug as can be, A man feeds the fires, And walks out to see The Northern Lights light up the sky.