A Dream of Summer

A Dream of Summer

Bland as the morning's breath of June,

The south-west breezes play,

And through it's haze the winter's noon

Seems warm as summer's day.

The snow-plumed angel of the north

Has dropped his icy spear:

Again the mossy earth looks forth,

Again the streams gush clear.

The fox his hill-side den forsakes,

The musk-rat leaves his nook,

The blue-bird in the meadow-brakes

Is singing with the brook.

"Bear up, O mother Nature!" cry

Bird, breeze, and streamlet free;

"Our winter voicese prophesy

Of summer days to thee"

So in these winters of the soul,

By winter blasts and drear,

O'erswept from memory's frozen pole.

Will summer days appear.

Reviving hope and faith, they show

The soul its living powers,

And how beneath the winter's snow

Lie gems of summer flowers.

The night is mother of the day,

The winter of the spring,

And ever upon old decay

The greenest mosses cling;

Behind the cloud the starlight lurks,

Through showers the sunbeams fall,

For God, who loveth all his works,

Has left his hope with all.

J.G. Whittier (John Greenleaf Whittier)

1:43, p. 1

5.12.1860