In Winter Time
Though leafless are my trees-
My trees so tall and stately-
And silently from these
My birds have flitted lately;
Though many joys I've known,
As sweet as baby laughter,
Which have forever flown-
And sorrow follows after;
Though dead my summer flowers,
And winds are bleak and dreary,
I shall not waste the hours
In vain lament, my dearie,
Nor miss the gay carouse
Of bobolink and linnet,
If still my heart shall house
A singing bird within it.
Winter Sunshine
It scarcely seems winter, so faint is the breeze
That stirs the green mistletoe there in the trees,
So idly on high float the white clouds along,
So sweet is the note of the meadow-lark's song,
So lazily loiter the herds where they stand,
So warm is the sunshine that lies on the land.
How bright, and far-reaching, from morning till night,
The glint and the glory, on foot-hill and height,
As if a broad mantle of yellowest gold,
O'er vale, mount and mesa, were softly unrolled;
As if Father Time sets his dial to show
That June's darling roses are ready to blow.
So pure is the air, and so crystalline clear,
The Organ peaks cluster so neighborly near
We bid them 'Good morning,' as if they are friends,
And the blue arch of heaven so lovingly bends
Above us, the spot seems a tropical isle,
Where Summer sheds ever the light of her smile.
New Mexican sunshine! like wine that is old,
And richest of vintage, its amber drops hold
New strength for the weak, and new joy for the strong;
It thrills them, yet soothes, like a lullaby-song,
Brings languor, and peace, till the worn spirit seems
Afloat in a boat, in the harbor of dreams!
Winter Birds
Fair is the sky, for the cloud-rack is lifted-
Bright will the day be, though dark was the morn;
Warm was the morn, but the strong wind has shifted
Into the north- where the blizzards are born.
White coward mercury goes down to zero-
Darting about flies a veteran jay,
Braving the breeze, like a blue-coated hero-
Seeking his supper, I venture to say.
Neighbors pass hurriedly, mantled and muffled-
Great coats, and seal-skins, to keep out the storm-
Plump little quail, with their plumage beruffled,
Search in the hedge for a nook that is warm.
That latest blast from the boreal bellows,
Drifted some snow-birds the garden below;
Always their coming, the wise-acres tell us,
Tokens cold weather, and flurries of snow.
Warm sheltered corners the cattle have chosen,
Shivers the pine in its evergreen leaves;
Pools by the roadside in wrinkles are frozen-
Bayonet icicles hang from the eaves.
Five English sparrows, defying the weather,
There in the pathway a conference hold;
Ho! merry midgets in doublets of feathers!
Why do you rally out there in the cold?
Little you care for the riot and rattle-
Little you heed- let the mercury fall!
Brave little fighters, go on with your battle-
Here is a friend who will welcome you all!
Fly to my window- I'll feed every comer-
Hail to the comrades that constancy show
Loving and loyal, in winter and summer-
With us, alike, in the heat and the snow!
