Classic Poem

Snow on the hilltops, drear and bleak,
Snow in the vales where the shrill winds speak
In mournful tones; but deep and deep
Down, down, beneath, the flowers sleep.

Green are the hilltops, fresh and fair,
Sweet is the breath of the scented air,
Loosed the chains of the ice-locked lake,
And the sad earth smiles and the flowers wake.

Snow on the heart that is riven and bleak,
Snow on the heart where voices speak,
Voices of grief that is deep and deep,
Yet still in the heart the flowers sleep.

A whisper of hope on the scented air,
Flown is the snow and the bleak heart fair;
Dull Grief's grim fetters break and break,
And the sad heart smiles and the flowers wake.