 | A New Year's Eve, and Other Poems |  |
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TO A CHILD.
ON THE APPROACH OF WINTER.
Mourn not, my little maid,
That the flowers of spring are sere;
Or that summer leaves should fade
In the autumn of the year.
That the flowers of spring are sere;
Or that summer leaves should fade
In the autumn of the year.
Those flowers have had their day;
The green leaves their task had done,
When they screened us from the ray
Of the bright and scorching sun.
The green leaves their task had done,
When they screened us from the ray
Of the bright and scorching sun.
The blossoms fed the bee;
And the leaves their shelter flung
Where, in shady bush or tree,
The birds brought up their young;
And the leaves their shelter flung
Where, in shady bush or tree,
The birds brought up their young;
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But what have thou and I
Done since April's teeming showers?
Or what fruits can we supply
From past summer's long light hours?
Done since April's teeming showers?
Or what fruits can we supply
From past summer's long light hours?
Nor let it chill thy heart
That stern winter now is near,
It has pleasures to impart
Which to childhood should be dear.
That stern winter now is near,
It has pleasures to impart
Which to childhood should be dear.
Its brightly blazing hearth,
And the smiling faces round it,
With as high and pure a worth
And as sweet a charm have crowned it.
And the smiling faces round it,
With as high and pure a worth
And as sweet a charm have crowned it.
Yet, little maid, remember,
That the prudent ant and bee,
Provide for dark December,
While the year is in its glee.
That the prudent ant and bee,
Provide for dark December,
While the year is in its glee.
| A New Year's Eve, and Other Poems | |