How strange to greet this frosty morn,
In graceful counterfeit of flower,
These children of the meadows, born,
Of sunshine and of showers.

How well the conscious wood retains
The pictures of its flower sown home,
The lights and shades, the purple stains,
And golden hues of bloom!
 
 

It's a happy thought to bring
To the dark season's frost and rime
This painted memory of spring,
This dream of summertime.

Our hearts are lighter for its sake,
Our fancy's age renews its youth,
And dim remembered fictions take
The guise of present truth.

Fill soft and deep, O winter snow!
The sweet azalea's dells,
And hide the banks where roses blow
And swing the azure bells!
 

And she, when spring comes round again,
By greening slope and singing flood
Shall wander, seeking, not in vain
Her darlings of the wood.
John Greenleaf Whittier
 
 
 

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Music re-sequenced by Geoff
Coventry Carol.

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