The world is whispering--listen, child!-- The world is telling a tale. When the seafoam froths in the winter wild Or the fendril flies in the gale, When the sky is mad with the swirling storm And thunder shakes the hall, Child, keep watch for the passing for Of the one who made it all. Listen, child, to the Hollish wind, To the hush of heather down, To the voice of the brook at the stony bend And the bells of Rysentown. The dark of the heart is a darkness deep And the sweep of the night is wide And the pain if the heart when the people weep Is an overwhelming tide-- And yet! and yet! when the tide runs low As the tide will always do And the heavy sky where the bellows blow Is bright at last, and blue And the sun ascends in the quiet morn And sorrow sinks away, When the veil of death and dark is torn Asunder by the day, Then the light of love is the flame of spring And the flow of the river strong And the hope of the heart as the people sing Is an everlasting song. The winter is whispering, "green and gold," And the heart is whispering, too-- It's a story the Maker has always told And the story, my child, is true.

Daniel Huttlestone as Kalmar