在星光闪烁的昏暗天空下，闪闪发光的雪堆又宽又高;O ?小山和山谷伸展着一件白色的斗篷，树枝上闪烁着晶莹的光芒;但是冬天的风呢?他冰冷的呼吸像死亡一样无情、麻木和冰冷。它围着一堆漂亮的东西吵个不停?现代财富和风格的居所，在那里微笑的客人聚集在一起迎接主人?生日用欢迎迎接;玻璃杯的叮当声和欢快的声调，伴着欢歌笑语，淹没了风?疯狂的呻吟。然而，在更远的地方，有另一个住所，它的柱廊骄傲地展示着。从它的窗户高处泻出缕缕光线，与外面的夜影混合在一起; And the strains of music rapid, gay? Told well how within sped the hours away. Steal but one glance at that magic scene, And long you will spell-bound gaze, I ween, On mirrors and flowers, and paintings old, And side-boards heaped with vessels of gold; Proud, stately men and women most fair, Glitt?ring in toilets, marvellous, rare. Sharp grief may torture many a heart, But its pangs are hid with wond?rous art; Breasts may harbor hate, envy or guile, But all is concealed ?neath the studied smile; And carelessly gay is each well-trained face, As the dancers flash past with magic grace. Not far away, down yon narrow lane, Where poverty herds with guilt and pain, Are homes where the wind finds entrance free, Searching each cranny with savage glee, And freezing the blood of those within, Through their wretched garments, scant and thin. List to the music that meets the ear! No sweet strains of Strauss will greet you here, But the moan of sickness, the feeble wail Of suff?ring childhood?of mothers pale, The groan of despair, or, alas, still worse! The blasphemous jest, or fierce, deep curse. See! on yon board is their banquet spread, Coarse broken remnants of mouldy bread; No cheerful flame in the fire-place bare To temper the cold of the biting air, Or the chill of the snow on the rotting floor, Drifting beneath the ill-closed door. O, woman, one gem from those that deck Thy taper fingers, white brow or neck; Young girl, a rose from thy glossy hair, One inch of that lace so costly and rare, Would give food and heat, and cheerful light To that wretched home, for at least one night. Revellers met round the festive board, A hot house fruit from your dainty hoard, The price of one draught of that wine, so old That it seems as precious as liquid gold, Would bring joy to more than one aching breast, And smiles to lips unused to such guest. Children of fashion, children of wealth, Who hear harsh truths, as it were, by stealth, An hour will come to all who live Of their stewardship here strict account to give Before the Great Judge, wise, stern and pure, Who will justice mete to both rich and poor. Well for you then if kind word and deed, Or generous alms to those in need, Have marked the course of your life?s brief dream, They?ll plead for you in that hour supreme, Outweigh past errors, and justice move To the side of mercy and pitying love.