I trace the tears through winters winds,
wherein the core shall all my sins
rest assured the bitter cold
shall forfeit all the lies I told.
And as the Fall did ease the grain
through the gray, so helpless rain
to send us to the waiting night;
a misty shore to view no light,
as so shall wither all of me,
those blooming springs no more to be,
but all withdraw from those cold winds;
those flowers freeze, poor lovely things.