The Frost Spirit and Others

A Dream of Summer

4th 1st month, 1847

John Greenleaf Whittier

BLAND as the morning breath of June
    The southwest breezes play;
And, through its haze, the winter noon
    Seems warm as summer’s day.
The snow-plumed Angel of the North
    Has dropped his icy spear;
Again the mossy earth looks forth,
    Again the streams gush clear.

The fox his hillside cell forsakes,
    The muskrat leaves his nook,
The bluebird in the meadow brakes
    Is singing with the brook.
“Bear up, O Mother Nature!” cry
    Bird, breeze, and streamlet free;
“Our winter voices prophesy
    Of summer days to thee!”

So, in those winters of the soul,
    By bitter blasts and drear
O’erswept from Memory’s frozen pole,
    Will sunny days appear.
Reviving Hope and Faith, they show
    The soul its living powers,
And how beneath the winter’s snow
    Lie germs of summer flowers!

The Night is mother of the Day,
    The Winter of the Spring,
And ever upon old Decay
    The greenest mosses cling.
Behind the cloud the starlight lurks,
    Through showers the sunbeams fall;
For God, who loveth all His works,
    Has left His hope with all!

Back    |    Words Home    |    John Greenleaf Whittier    |    Site Info.    |    Feedback