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.