Yet in solemn winter, beauty must end
And the singing of birds sure fades away
No longer in thick leaves to sit and lend
A joyous tune to the children who play.
So all the color from the world does fade
So swiftly the land becomes just one hue
Thus under the snow sweet flora is laid
The color and splendor taken from view.
Grasped so swiftly, and shaken to death
All that is lovely and warm on this earth
By the abject rue of cold winter’s breath
Still truly I say there still is much mirth:
For in my heart true, I sing soft and coo,
Thankful refrains of this joy that is you.