A WRITING!


Wint68

February has quickly passed,

As I gaze out my window,

I see four feet of snow

And the thermometer,

Reads twenty decrees below.

On my mind,

And on my lips

these words are found,

Hasten Spring,

With your green leaves

And bare ground;

O, to hear a robin sing,

And the call of the goose

through the valley ring,

To smell the scent of the wild rose,

And to shed these winter clothes.

Still we must be content,

To have what we have

And for God’s blessings sent!

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