Winter

O my roses, lying underneath the snow!
Do you still remember summer’s warmth and glow?
Do you thrill, remembering how your blushes burned
When the Day-god on you ardent glances turned?

Great tree, wildly stretching bare arms up to heaven,
Do you think how softly, on some warm June even,
All your young leaves whispered, all your birds sang low,
As with rhythmic motion boughs swayed to and fro?

River, lying whitely in a frozen sleep,
Know you how your pulses used to throb and leap?
How you danced and sparkled on your happy way,
In the summer mornings when the world was gay?

Dear Earth, dumbly waiting God’s appointed time,
Are you faint with longing for the voice sublime?
Wrapped in stony silence, does your great heart beat,
Listening in the darkness for the coming of His feet?