Poetry Archives

Come Winter, merry Winter,
  Rejoice while yet you may,
For nearer, ever nearer,
  Fair Summer draws each day,
And soon the tiny snowdrops
  Shall waken from their sleep,
And, mossy banks from under,
  The modest violets peep.

The apple trees shall scatter
  Their buds at Summer’s feet,
And with their fragrant odors
  Make every zephyr sweet;
While Nature, of wild roses,
  And lilies frail and white,
Shall make a wreath for Summer,
  And crown her with delight.

Forth from the smiling heavens
  Shall fall the gentle rain,
The earth shall feel her presence
  And welcome her with grain;
The birds shall come and twitter,
  And build amid the boughs,
So Winter, merry Winter,
  While yet you may, carouse.

We love you, merry Winter,
  You and the joys you bring,
And loud and long your praises
  Throughout the world we sing;
But Summer, gentle Summer,
  Comes shyly through the glade,
And draws all hearts to love her,
  So fair is she arrayed.

We love the merry sleighing,
  The swinging snowshoe tramp,
While in the clear, cold heavens
  The calm moon holds her lamp,

We love the breathless coasting.
  The skating and the games
Played amid shouts of laughter,
  Around the hearth-fire flames.

But Summer, winsome Summer,
  Holds greater stores of bliss,
When all the land awakens,
  And blossoms at her kiss;
We soon shall feel her presence,
 And breathe her perfumed breath,
Then, Winter, dear old Winter,
  We will not mourn your death.