The spruce boughs break and morning waits,
From the minute stream the ice will crack,
With the land around crisp in this attack,
We saw many a snowy owls and bald eagles feed,
Upon this empty icy land with snow light and easy too see,
Way down towards the bog more wrens play,
But feed awhile in brambles and make our day,
Sweet hushes low and down along the breaks upon the ice,
A coyote tests before crossing and perhaps a kill,
For the pheasants journey to leave before its hunger filled,
Oh, too hear a cry but who has lay down onto this land,
Too dream of frosts and weary hearts of cold abandoned wastes,
For Botany Bay Park with ice sheets sounding like arctic spells and haste.
