Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/36

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30
POEMS.
And yet within whose smallest bud is wraptA world of promise! Still the north wind breathesHis frost, and still the sky sheds snow and sleet;Yet ever, when the sun looks forth again,The flowers smile up to him from their low seats. Well hast thou borne the bleak March day of life.Its storms and its keen winds to thee have beenMost kindly tempered, and through all its gloomThere has been warmth and sunshine in thy heart;The griefs of life to thee have been like snows,That light upon the fields in early spring,Making them greener. In its milder hours,The smile of this pale season, thou hast seen,The glorious bloom of June, and in the noteOf early bird, that comes a messengerFrom climes of endless verdure, thou hast heard
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