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November
The leaves are fading and falling,
The winds are rough and wild,
The birds have ceased their calling,
But let me tell you, my child,
Though day by day, as it closes,
Doth darker and colder grow,
The roots of the bright red roses
Will keep alive in the snow.
And when the winter is over,
The boughs will get new leaves,
The quail come back to the clover,
And the swallow back to the eaves.
There must be rough, cold weather,
And winds and rains so wild;
Not all good things together
Come to us here, my child.
So, when some dear joy loses
Its beauteous summer glow,
Think how the roots of the roses
Are kept alive in the snow.
By Alice Cary
Alice Cary was born on 26 April 1820 in Mount Healthy, Ohio, United States of America. She was an older sister of the poet Phoebe Cary (1824 - 1871). Alice Cary became a writer and a poet. She passed on at 50 years of age on 12 February 1871 in New York City, New York, United States of America.
The leaves are fading and falling,
The winds are rough and wild,
The birds have ceased their calling,
But let me tell you, my child,
Though day by day, as it closes,
Doth darker and colder grow,
The roots of the bright red roses
Will keep alive in the snow.
And when the winter is over,
The boughs will get new leaves,
The quail come back to the clover,
And the swallow back to the eaves.
There must be rough, cold weather,
And winds and rains so wild;
Not all good things together
Come to us here, my child.
So, when some dear joy loses
Its beauteous summer glow,
Think how the roots of the roses
Are kept alive in the snow.
By Alice Cary
Alice Cary was born on 26 April 1820 in Mount Healthy, Ohio, United States of America. She was an older sister of the poet Phoebe Cary (1824 - 1871). Alice Cary became a writer and a poet. She passed on at 50 years of age on 12 February 1871 in New York City, New York, United States of America.
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