Merry Thought of the Day

Straight through the chill of winter days

As clear as anything,

Through all the murk & misty ways,

I see the coming Spring.

And clear above the noisy swell

Of winter's arctic blast,

I hear the bird notes sweet that tell

Of June days come at last.

Old Winter's ways speak not of rue

To me, things drab and gray

The point the path that leads us to

The flowers of May!

John Kendrick Bangs~Published 1918