This is a sad poem that gives you an image of a little old woman sitting by a fire with her faithful pet and watches a young maid pass by and then slips into eternal sleep.

Silent whispers of November snow,

often sadden the little widow.

Now resting beside the fireside,

Listening to the her faithful hound.

Whom has not yet left her side,

Wags his tail with each leap and bound.

Frightened children lay awake,

Afraid the of the Devils cake.

Shy little maid strolls on by,

Never thinking to wave good bye.

As silent as the November snow,

The widow passes just so.

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