UUNDER the snow lie sweet things out of sight,Couching like birds beneath a downy breast;They cluster ’neath the coverlet warm and white,And bide the winter-time in hopeful rest.There are the hyacinths, holding ivory tipsPointed and ready for a hint of sun;And hooded violets, with dim, fragrant lipsAsleep and dreaming fairy dreams each one.There lurk a myriad quick and linkèd roots,Coiled for a spring when the ripe time is near;The brave chrysanthemum’s pale yellow shootsAnd daffodils, the vanguard of the year;The nodding snowdrop and the columbine;The hardy crocus, prompt to hear a call;Pensile wistaria and thick woodbine;And valley lilies, sweetest of them all.All undismayed, although the drifts are deep,All sure of spring and strong of cheer they lie;And we, who see but snows, we smile and keepThe selfsame courage in the by and by.Ah! the same drifts shroud other precious things,—Flower-like faces, pallid now and chill,Feet laid to rest after long journeyings,And fair and folded hands forever still.All undismayed, in deep and hushed repose,Waiting a sweeter, further spring, they lie;And we, whose yearning eyes see but the snows,Shall we not trust, like them, the by and by?
UUNDER the snow lie sweet things out of sight,Couching like birds beneath a downy breast;They cluster ’neath the coverlet warm and white,And bide the winter-time in hopeful rest.There are the hyacinths, holding ivory tipsPointed and ready for a hint of sun;And hooded violets, with dim, fragrant lipsAsleep and dreaming fairy dreams each one.There lurk a myriad quick and linkèd roots,Coiled for a spring when the ripe time is near;The brave chrysanthemum’s pale yellow shootsAnd daffodils, the vanguard of the year;The nodding snowdrop and the columbine;The hardy crocus, prompt to hear a call;Pensile wistaria and thick woodbine;And valley lilies, sweetest of them all.All undismayed, although the drifts are deep,All sure of spring and strong of cheer they lie;And we, who see but snows, we smile and keepThe selfsame courage in the by and by.Ah! the same drifts shroud other precious things,—Flower-like faces, pallid now and chill,Feet laid to rest after long journeyings,And fair and folded hands forever still.All undismayed, in deep and hushed repose,Waiting a sweeter, further spring, they lie;And we, whose yearning eyes see but the snows,Shall we not trust, like them, the by and by?
UUNDER the snow lie sweet things out of sight,Couching like birds beneath a downy breast;They cluster ’neath the coverlet warm and white,And bide the winter-time in hopeful rest.
U
UNDER the snow lie sweet things out of sight,
Couching like birds beneath a downy breast;
They cluster ’neath the coverlet warm and white,
And bide the winter-time in hopeful rest.
There are the hyacinths, holding ivory tipsPointed and ready for a hint of sun;And hooded violets, with dim, fragrant lipsAsleep and dreaming fairy dreams each one.
There are the hyacinths, holding ivory tips
Pointed and ready for a hint of sun;
And hooded violets, with dim, fragrant lips
Asleep and dreaming fairy dreams each one.
There lurk a myriad quick and linkèd roots,Coiled for a spring when the ripe time is near;The brave chrysanthemum’s pale yellow shootsAnd daffodils, the vanguard of the year;
There lurk a myriad quick and linkèd roots,
Coiled for a spring when the ripe time is near;
The brave chrysanthemum’s pale yellow shoots
And daffodils, the vanguard of the year;
The nodding snowdrop and the columbine;The hardy crocus, prompt to hear a call;Pensile wistaria and thick woodbine;And valley lilies, sweetest of them all.
The nodding snowdrop and the columbine;
The hardy crocus, prompt to hear a call;
Pensile wistaria and thick woodbine;
And valley lilies, sweetest of them all.
All undismayed, although the drifts are deep,All sure of spring and strong of cheer they lie;And we, who see but snows, we smile and keepThe selfsame courage in the by and by.
All undismayed, although the drifts are deep,
All sure of spring and strong of cheer they lie;
And we, who see but snows, we smile and keep
The selfsame courage in the by and by.
Ah! the same drifts shroud other precious things,—Flower-like faces, pallid now and chill,Feet laid to rest after long journeyings,And fair and folded hands forever still.
Ah! the same drifts shroud other precious things,—
Flower-like faces, pallid now and chill,
Feet laid to rest after long journeyings,
And fair and folded hands forever still.
All undismayed, in deep and hushed repose,Waiting a sweeter, further spring, they lie;And we, whose yearning eyes see but the snows,Shall we not trust, like them, the by and by?
All undismayed, in deep and hushed repose,
Waiting a sweeter, further spring, they lie;
And we, whose yearning eyes see but the snows,
Shall we not trust, like them, the by and by?