I’ve seen a rose-bush fading,
Its leaves were falling fast,
It seemed to say
“Alas! the day!
My flowering time is past.”
But shortly will the time come,
When roses bloom again,
And not a flower
In summer’s bower
Shall glow more brightly then.
I’ve seen a little violet
And this it seemed to say:
“My bloom is gone,
I’m all forlorn,
And withering away.
But in the pleasant season,
When winter nights are done,
All gemmed with dew,
My flowerets blue
Shall open to the sun.”
Upon a leafless fruit-tree
I saw a Robin sit;
He seemed to wear
A downcast air,
And chirped “te-whit, te-whit”
“Adieu!” he said, “fair village,
Where I have lived so long;
I’ll be this way
Some sweet spring day,
And sing a blither song.”
I saw a lovely infant
Just sinking to his rest;
His cheek of rose,
In soft repose,
Upon his mother’s breast.
But soon his slumber over,
A fairer sight than this,
With motion fleet,
He springs to meet
His mother’s playful kiss.
I met a little maiden,
Her face was fair to see;
Her step was light,
Her eye was bright,
And this she said to me:
“The flowers have each their season,
All things their time to shine,
With vigor new,
And beauty too_
Why should not I have mine?
The time has come for me too,
New powers within to find;
New Year shall be
That time to me,
The spring-time of the mind.