| |
| THE COLD blast at the casement beats; | |
| The window-panes are white; | |
| The snow whirls through the empty streets; | |
| It is a dreary night! | |
| Sit down, old friend, the wine-cups wait; | 5 |
| Fill to o’erflowing, fill! | |
| Though winter howleth at the gate, | |
| In our hearts ’t is summer still! | |
| |
| For we full many summer joys | |
| And greenwood sports have shared, | 10 |
| When, free and ever-roving boys, | |
| The rocks, the streams, we dared; | |
| And, as I looked upon thy face, | |
| Back, back o’er years of ill, | |
| My heart flies to that happy place, | 15 |
| Where it is summer still. | |
| |
| Yes, though like sere leaves on the ground, | |
| Our early hopes are strown, | |
| And cherished flowers lie dead around, | |
| And singing birds are flown, | 20 |
| The verdure is not faded quite, | |
| Not mute all tones that thrill; | |
| And seeing, hearing thee to-night, | |
| In my heart ’t is summer still. | |
| |
| Fill up! The olden times come back | 25 |
| With light and life once more; | |
| We scan the Future’s sunny track | |
| From Youth’s enchanted shore; | |
| The lost return: through fields of bloom | |
| We wander at our will; | 30 |
| Gone is the winter’s angry gloom,— | |
| In our hearts ’t is summer still. | |
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