Winter Sheds Her Coat
(That She Might Welcome Coming Spring)

Now Winter sheds her woven coat,

Lo, guides with gentle grip;

She sings her quaint and quiet notes,

Yet whispers firm and faithful lips:

O wake, my dear, my precious one, tis time you start anew;

Your slumber served your beauty well, for I’ve kept watch o’er you.

‘Twas difficult to shake the cross

Which clung on, white and speckled;

So mother rose from throne aloft

And called the day to melt it;

But still was nothing left to wear,

laid bare from head to feet;

So mother gave her crown for fair,

And dressed her dear with blossoms sweet;

Though still, it could not ever do– 

To stay ‘neath mother’s hallowed roof;  

forlorn it seemed her dear outgrew,

In springtime’s budding, boundless youth;

Alas, my dear, don’t cry nor fear–I love you all one could;

Now darling Spring shall take my place, so love her kind and good.

Yet yonder lay, her eyes alight;

With rosy head of curls

The brisk and brightened springtime sprite,

A blithesome little girl;

O sing and dance, my friend, won’t you; your dress falls well to-day!

O jump and play, my friend, ‘tis true that all is bright and gay!

She steps about the pastures, clear

Nay, prances in her stirrings;

Whilst eager friend sprouts up to cheer

With loose leafed hands of yearning;

Without the sways from which to dance

Once joy had taken root;

Spring fashioned winds, they might romance

Through splendid strums of lute;

‘Tis sure that sometime, even she

In all her youthful fire;

Succumbs to weary bouts and sprees,

And wishes to retire;

What fun, my friend…What cheerful times…You dance as has no other;

Though I must rest, my sweetest one…Go find beloved mother.

Erelong the months, gone green and gold

Once time makes up its mind;

Past longing days of slow unfold– 

Dear mother comes divined;

Now Winter sheds her woven coat,

Lo, guides with gentle grip;

She sings her quaint and quiet notes,

Yet whispers firm and faithful lips;