The leaves are fading and falling;The winds are rough and wild;The birds have ceased their calling–But let me tell you, my child,
Though day by day, as it closes,Doth darker and colder grow,The roots of the bright red rosesWill keep alive in the snow.
And when the winter is over,
The boughs will get new leaves,
The quail come back to the clover,
And the swallow back to the eaves.
The robin will wear on his bosom
A vest that is bright and new,
And the loveliest wayside blossom
Will shine with the sun and dew.
The leaves today are whirling;
The brooks are all dry and dumb–
But let me tell you, my darling,
The spring will be sure to come.
There must be rough, cold weather,
And winds and rains so wild;
Not all good things together
Come to us here, my child.
So, when some dear joy loses
Its beauteous summer glow,
Think how the roots of the roses
Are kept alive in the snow.
That is a hopeful and stunning piece. I used to tellmys tudents the trees were not dead, they were sleeping during winter.ReplyDelete
That's a great way of putting it.Delete
At the rate things are going we may not have much of a winter this year. (Did I just jinx us?)ReplyDelete
I haven't used my snow boots for two years and if I have to put them on this winter I'll be coming after you :-)Delete
Nice poem; thanx.ReplyDelete
Lovely poem choice.ReplyDelete
That's a nice poem.ReplyDelete