The Owl

In the sweet and the solid winter dark,
Out in the sweet and solid winter dark
The owl is hunting on a silver wing.
It skims above a world fallen asleep
And knows the many secrets of the wind.

Within we have our comfort and our rest,
We nod, engulfed in richness at the heart.
The owl overhead is sleepless still
It watches the waking of the earth.

Under this soaring heaven here is the glory written,
Fleet as a comet falling through the sky.
All through the silver stillness wing beats will rise in chorus.
Owl of the midnight forest, silent king.

Praise for the ring of gold that rounds the year.
Praise for the Christmas-tide and what it keeps,
Praise for the owl beneath the stars
Un-resting guardian of peace.

Under this soaring heaven here is the glory written,
Fleet as a comet falling through the sky.
All through the silver stillness wing beats will rise in chorus.
Owl of the midnight forest, silent king soaring high, soaring!