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WHEN WINTER COMES

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Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Jan 28, 1903

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 29, No. 4.

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WHEN WINTER COMES.

By BENJ. PHILLIPS

When winter comes I hear thee cry, Thy voice is, too, a plaintive sound, E’er mourning for the days gone by, When summer smiled, and sunshine found Its way to fragrant nook and vale, Where now the winds of winter wail,
No bird flits through the clouded sky, Nor warbles nigh the woodman’s trail— Thus from our land the song-birds fly, When winter comes.
Thy friends, the birds, have left thee now, The summer days so cherished gone! Why fondle sorrow, or allow The grin of Woe to lead thee on, As tho no hope could e’en be born When winter comes?
Seiad, Cal. BENJ. PHILLIPS.