Where lie the days of past and gone
Where memories were made
The once resplendent, shining dawn
Crestfallen now doth fade

A shadowed rider yon doth show
Upon his horse of white
Trotting through the glistening snow
Therein the dead of night

The wind that blew a favored boon
Bequeathed a cold embrace
To add a year and one too soon
Bestowed upon his face

Across the plains he tarries not
His mission he’ll fulfill
This is his doom, his fate, his lot
The wish of his free will

But evening bids a silent ear
Great loneliness it brings
For none but stars are there to hear
The sentiment he sings

Yea, what little sympathy
This earth so seldom gives
For nary aid nor empathy
Beneath his footsteps lives

Still onward ever he will press
A faithful hand he’ll lend
And all familiar will confess
His deeds unto the end

Yet soon will cease his languish
When death ensnares his grace
Despite his woe and anguish
He’ll have peace upon his face