As I beside some winter's fire Sat writing words strange and steady Amongst my own internal choir Came voices to my mind unready Of those, who died on either side While friends cry o'er their bones unburied Go sighing through the north east winds These cold days of February Some clerk with papers and his pen Some banker with his poison pity Some captain careless of his men These fan the flames that maim the cities And bigots in the name of Christ By thorny paths obscure and muddy Can fear to roam through years of cold Bewailing how their hands are bloody Whether they were from here or there Their race and place I would not be heeding The men who caused such bitterness If hearts they have let their hearts be bleeding Who neither for age nor the young child Would turn the shot of the arms they carried Go bear the guilt a weary ways For the cold days of February