---

Edith Nesbit - January
Work rating: Low

WHILE yet the air is keen, and no bird sings, 
    Nor any vaguest thrills of heart declare 
    The presence of the springtime in the air, 
Through the raw dawn the shepherd homeward brings 
The wee white lambs--the little helpless things-- 
    For shelter, warmth, and comfortable care. 
    Without his help how hardly lambs would fare-- 
How hardly live through winter`s hours to spring`s! 


So let me tend and minister apart 
    To my new hope, which some day you shall know: 
It could not live in January wind 
    Of your disdain; but when within your heart 
    The bud and bloom of tenderness shall grow, 
Amid the flowers my hope may welcome find.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.