Sit and watch the stars with me,
Beside the crashing, crystal sea,
Beyond the sandy, hilly dells
That echo winds like whisp'ring bells,
At the end of laughing path,
Splashing as it 'neath trees does pass,
The trees that grow 'pon drops of dew
And live, and die, and spring anew.
Still the stars dance in the sky
And o'er the night's black cloak now fly,
To fall beneath the heavens' shroud,
Or wander close to shifting cloud,
Yet always will they rise once more,
To twirl above the water's shore.
There's a catchy little rhythm in the crunching of the snow, As it shines with water droplets in the warmth of sunlight's glow. I can hear it in the whistle of the winter wind so cold, And the song of every cardinal with his feathers bright and bold. Listen closely--can you hear it? In the cracking of the ice, And the creaking of the bushes, each leaf clear and so precise. I can hear it in the jingle of each shining, silver bell, Ringing out so merrily their voice throughout the dell. Yet though I hear it in the noises, I hear it most of all, In the silence of the winter, and each new snowflake's fall.
Softly still the snow is falling, To the quiet world below, Muffled in its veil of crystals, Blown in cold wind to and fro. Through the shifting, cloudy blanket, That covers up the dark night sky, A flash, a twinkle, I see the radience, Glittering from the stars on high. Spears of moonlight rain down to me, Shattering o'er the frosted earth, I wonder if each were a diamond, Could we even price their worth? Softly still now I am walking, Through this quiet winter scene, While frosted breath floats to the heav'ns, My thoughts rise up unto my King.