To Winter

by Frank Dempster Sherman

Good Winter, hear this wish I write
Before the red leaves blow
Across the sky
To droop and die,
And sleep beneath the snow;
Before the birds have taken flight
Unto a gentler clime,
And for my thought
Have left me naught
Of melody or rhyme.

The purple clusters in the leaves
Of grapes already ripe;
The chestnut burrs
Half burst; the slurs
Upon the robin's pipe;
The shrill wind whistling round the eaves;
The dawn's white gossamer; --
All these awake
The wish I make,
Good Winter, just for her.

My Love, a blossom fair is she;
Lithe as a lily stem:
Her voice and words
So like the birds'
Will make you think of them.
Good Winter, keep her safe for me,
Leave to her face its smile,
And to her heart
Of love that part
Which makes my wish worth while!