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FEW months ago we bade adieu to leaves which dried and scattered Quite at the time when autumn came and summer hopes were shattered: And all the winter long the trees have reached their limbs toward heaven As if imploring sustenance--yes, every day in seven. And now it seems the prayer is heard, for in the little branches Come swelling buds which indicate the life the bud enhances; Though it may feebly, sweetly swell, the leaven there is working And not one part of Nature's plan is in its season shirking. There comes a time the trees must rest--the winter with its fetter; The ice as pure as morning dew, an answer to its letter. And while kind Nature in the trees reveals the forests' duty It clothes the giants of the wood in robes of rarest beauty. Preliminary work, no doubt, this downy fleece adorning The great, the small, with dainty touch for later spring-time morning ; And as the life goes leaping through the arteries--life's lotion-- We need not wonder that the buds swell forth with warm emotion ! When they have drunk the sweets of life, developed as intended, They then beam forth and catch the rays with light and shadow blended; And in the summer twilight dream of dews from Heaven's mountain They slake their thirst beneath the skies, their canopies' great fountain. And thus the leaves come forth again that we may all re- member That they are quite as sure to come as dreaded old December; And while the two are true to life, the buds of Spring I gather In recollection as a charm, for hearts, in wintry weather. |
