A Dream of Summer - An 1847 Poem

By John G. Whittier.

Bland as the morning breath of June

The South west breezes play;

And, through its haze, the Winter noon

Seems warm as Summer's day.

The snow-plumed Angel of the North

Has dropped his icy spear;

Again the mossy earth looks forth,

Again the streams gush clear.

 

The fox his hill side cell forsakes —

The muskrat leaves his nook,

The blue-bird in the meadow brakes

Is singing with the brook.

"Bear up, O Mother Nature!" cry

Bird, breeze and streamlet free.

"Our Winter voices prophesy

Of Summer days to three!"

 

So, in those winters of the soul,

By bitter blasts and drear

O'erswept from Memory's frozen pole,

Will sunny days appear.

Reviving Hope and Faith, they show

The soul its living powers,

And how beneath the Winter's snow

Lie gems of Summer flowers!

 

The Night is Mother of the Day,

The Winter of the Spring,

And ever upon old Decay

The greenest mosses cling.

Behind the cloud the starlight lurks,

Through showers the sunbeams fall;

For God, who loveth all His works,

Has left His Hope with all!

May 6, 1847. New York Daily Tribune 7(23): 4. From the National Era. Also August 27, 1851 in the Grand River Times 1(8): 1.