In the slumber of the winter,
In the secret of the snow,
What is the voice that is crying
Out of the long ago?
When the accents of the children
Are silent on the stairs,
When the poor forgets his troubles,
And the rich forgets his cares.
What is the silent whisper
That echoes in the room,
When the days are full of darkness,
And the night is hushed in gloom?
'Tis the voice of the departed,
Who will never come again,
Who has left the weary tumult,
And the struggle and the pain. {5}
And my heart makes heavy answer,
To the voice that comes no more,
To the whisper that is welling
From the far off happy shore.
If you are not satisfied with these simple ways of not succeeding, please
try the Grosvenor Gallery style. Here the great point is to make the
rhyme arrive at the end of a very long word, you should also be free with
your alliterations.