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The Daughter Of The Year

 Nature, when she made thee, dear,
Begged the treasures of the year.
For thy cheeks, all pink and white, Spring gave apple blossoms light; Summer, for thy matchless eyes, Gave the azure of her skies; Autumn spun her gold and red In a mass of silken thread— Gold and red and sunlight rare For the wonder of thy hair! Surly Winter would impart But his coldness, for thy heart.
Dearest, let the love I bring Turn thy Winter into Spring.
What are Summer, Spring and Fall, If thy Winter chills them all?

by Ellis Parker Butler
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