Classic Poem

The winter winds are fiercely howling now
In wrath around my cherished " sea-side bower, "
As if to bid my spirit meekly bow,
And own the storm-king's might the greater power.
Not so: the genial sun is coming fast,
The radiant glory of the summer day.
The reign of terror then will soon be past;
And peace returning shall call forth our praise.
Thus ever must all doubts and fears depart
Which chill our spirits as a wintry clime,
When Love, which conquers fear and death, the heart
Makes glad and bright like hours of summer-time.
Let Love, then, reign supreme within my breast,
Faith, Hope, and Charity shall make me blest.