When leaves or hopes seem deathly dry
And drift in pointless heaps,
The larger system does not die;
It pauses, waits and sleeps.

And when the sharply solemn air
Is lifeless in the whole,
Winter, whether iced or bare,
Is surely beautiful.

It is no time to sigh or fear,
But means God called it best
To calm this portion of each year
And let the world have rest.