Azalia E. Martin, "Winter" (1905)
By Azalia E. Martin
The clouds descend and darken,
Wild blows the gale and cold:
T'e trees to the storm blasts hearken
Standing as sentries bold.
Their proud heads gently shifting
Paint pictures upon the sky,
And snow through the branches sifting
God's earth to beautify.
From caves in distant mountains,
The wild winds rushing come;
They still the voice of the fountains,
And hush the brooklet's hum.
The frost on windows sketching,
Thousands of forms unknown,
And far o'er the woodlands stretching
Jewels like chaff are strown.
A light thro the storm peeps under-
'Tis Old Sol's charioteer
Rifting the clouds asunder,
Which dreamlike disappear.
And Winter, hoar rejoices
Girding his armor fast,
While the winds with a thousand voices
Answer his stormy blast.
Published in Voice of the Negro, February 1905
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