THE FROSTED PANE
by Charles G.D. Roberts (1860-1943)

One night came Winter noiselessly, and leaned
 Against my window-pane.
In the deep stillness of his heart convened
 The ghosts of all his slain.

Leaves, and ephemera, and stars of earth,
 And fugitives of grass, --
White spirits loosed from bonds of mortal birth,
 He drew them on the glass.