I sit and list to the sleighbells,

As they tinkle o'er the snow,
And with the rush of their music

Come tremors of grief and woe ;
And my heart goes back to the cedars

In the wonderful long ago.

And I drive through the echoing woodlands,

Over the glimmering snow :
A maid with a face of beauty,

And sweet voice soft and low,
Sits close to my side and whispers,
' Darling, I love you so !'

I start with a cry of anguish,

For that was long ago ;
And I see a grave that 's newly made

Under the falling snow ;
But only now I heard her say,
' Darling, I love you so !'