Littell's Living Age/Volume 169/Issue 2185/"Blossoms Meet to Mourn the Dead"

meet to mourn the dead On each season's grave are spread. Lilies white and roses red O'er dead Spring are canopied; Roses in their latest bloom Blazon golden Summer's tomb; Stealthy showers of petals fall At still Autumn's funeral But the darlings of the year Strew rude Winter's sepulchre.

Scarce a flower does Winter own. Of four seasons he alone Scarce a bud does to him take. Barren for the future's sake, Well content to none possess. And sweet violets — faithfulness — And white snowdrops — innocence — Are in death his recompense. And these darlings of the year Strew rude Winter's sepulchre.