Serene it seemed to lift its head:'The Winter's wrath I do not dread,Because I am,' it proudly said,'A Pioneer.
'Alas! ' said I, 'poor foolish thing,Have you mistaken this for Spring? Behold, the thrush has taken wing,And Winter's near.'
Today I opened wide my eyes,And stared with wonder and surprise,To see beneath November skiesAn apple blossom peer; Upon a branch as bleak as nightIt gleamed exultant on my sight,A fairy beacon burning brightOf hope and cheer.
'Some apple blossom must be first,With beauty's urgency to burstInto a world for joy athirst,And so I dare; And I shall see what none shall see -December skies gloom over me,And mock them with my April glee,And fearless fare.
'And I shall hear what none shall hear -The hardy robin piping clear,The Storm King gallop dark and drearAcross the sky; And I shall know what none shall know -The silent kisses of the snow,The Christmas candles' silver glow,Before I die.
'Then from your frost-gemmed window paneOne morning you will look in vain,My smile of delicate disdainNo more to see;But though I pass before my time,And perish in the grale and grime,Maybe you'll have a little rhymeTo spare for me.'
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