In Snow

O English mother, in the ruddy glow

Hugging your baby closer when outside

You see the silent, soft, and cruel snow

Falling again, and think what ills betide

Unshelter'd creatures,—your sad thoughts may go

Where War and Winter now, two spectre-wolves,

Hunt in the freezing vapour that involves

Those Asian peaks of ice and gulfs below.

Does this young Soldier heed the snow that fills

His mouth and open eyes? or mind, in truth,

To-night, his mother's parting syllables?

Ha! is't a red coat?—Merely blood. Keep ruth

For others; this is but an Afghan youth

Shot by the stranger on his native hills.