Hope

The weariest watch must sometime end,
The dreariest Winter must one day close,
And under the cover that wraps the earth
Sleeps the Summer rose.

Did the Spring e'er fail of its mission sweet,
After the rush of the Northern snows?
Then why should we care, since under the earth
Sleeps the Summer rose?

by Charles Hanson Towne

Other poems of CHARLES HANSON TOWNE (106)

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