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[18] 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!

4th 1st month, 1847.

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1847 AD (1)
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