Doth natures cries a passion, truth be told to few,
As winter frost lies gently frozen, on grounds the earth to choose.
It\'s heart but blessed, a top a Robin\'s crest,
And virtue rides on through.
Bring me dreams of white, where birds take flight,
Or simply pass me by.
Alas the faith of father son, a crown, or alibi.
Rise like a brook, settle there a cliff, and rain till moonlight tides brings down the morning mist. Again it\'s taste within my mind emracefully a kiss.
For freeze to thaw, as sunlight draws, a summer not to miss.