Richard Watson Gilder

The New Day. Part 4. 8. The Seasons

O strange Spring days, when from the shivering ground
Love riseth, wakening from his dreamful swound
And, frightened, in the stream his face hath found!

O Summer days; when Love hath grown apace,
And feareth not to look upon Love's face,
And lightnings burn where earth and sky embrace!

O Autumn, when the winds are dank and dread,
How brave above the dying and the dead
The conqueror, Love, uplifts his banner red!

O Winter, when the earth lies white and chill!
Now only hath strong Love his perfect will,
Whom heat, nor cold, nor death can bind nor kill.