Snow and the winds that eat into the bone,
  Here where the sun lies cold and waters moan. 
  God’s pastures still are bearing for His feet
  A million purple blooms all dewy sweet: 
  Violets and asters, hyacinths and phlox,
  And streaming shafts of starry hollyhocks.

  Late in the day when I crawled up the hills,
  Dogged by the cold that tortures ere it kills;
  I needs must stand and stare beyond the rim,
  And watch the garden once more laid for Him;
  Until the moon’s great dripping calyx came,
  And all the myriad star-buds burst in flame.

  Then bitter envy gnawed upon my heart. 
  Flowers in Heaven, and I stand here apart! 
  “O God,” I cried, “take me from this place,
  Where I may feel the warm grass brush my face!”
  Then ’cross the snow a whisper caught my ear: 
  “Peace, for the Spring—­the Spring once more is here.”