These well loved places we often have seen
Are hidden now where our fires have been.
Black ashes lie beneath the silent snow.
Now burnt-out, hopeless embers
These we know.
They wait for us and Springtime, you and I
Once more shall linger here
And by and by
These dreary shores will be decked in green again
This silent ice shall disappear and then
These stark grey stones, new-decked with fronded fern
Shall smile again to welcome your return.