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Claude McKay - After the Winter
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Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
And against the morning`s white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered for the night, 
We`ll turn our faces southward, love,
Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire to shafted grove
And wide-mouthed orchids smile.

And we will seek the quiet hill
Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
And ferns that never fade.
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