Painting by William Blake
The fire blazes high and strong,
Surrounded by a happy throng,
Singing, dancing all night long.
And in the dawn of spring’s new day,
When all the songs have died away,
Last night’s wishes are here to stay.
Homeward now, hair rumpled, clothes torn,
They yawn and smile and sleep lovelorn,
Dreaming of winter and bairns to be born.