The Skaters

The Skaters
Grant Cook.
2332
The rising moon,
Dispels the gloom,
And throws her beams on frozen lake, afar:
A pathway, bright
With mellow light, Where skaters skim across the amber bar.

With swinging stride
And graceful glide,
The skaters cross the shining bar of light.
Swift flitting by,
As shadows fly,
They whirl and curve in phantom circling flight.

A ring of steel,
A laughter peal,
A bar of song and bit of raillery;
A dash and cheer,
While sharp and clear
The skate strokes ring out merrily.

A gleam of fire,
Then blazing higher,
The pile of brushwood burns, a beacon bright.
The bonfire throws
Bright ruby glows
On merry groups around its leaping light.

And when at last,
Our skates are fast;
We glide among the jolly, moving throng.
With hearts aglow,
We swiftly go,
Out in the moonlit path with blithesome song.