Poems (Curwen)/Winter has come

by Annie Isabel Curwen

Winter Has Come.

AN APPEAL FOR THE POOR.

Spring came, and clothed the land in green,
And for a space we crowned her Queen.
Then Summer came with all her bloom
And filled the land with sweet perfume
Of flowers. Then, 'ere her beauty waned
She abdicated, and fair Autumn reigned;
And, 'neath her mild and genial reign,
Earth yielded up her golden grain.
But, now, her gentle sway is o'er,
Winter, stern Winter, rules once more.
Winter has come, and in his train
Are want and misery, death and pain.
We hear his voice in the tempest's roar:
"Ha! Ha!" he shrieks,"'Ere my reign is o'er
There'll be sadder wrecks than these at sea—
Wrecks of want and misery."
And the sea moans sadly, "God help the poor!
He will drive the cruel wolf to their door,
Then freeze the blood in the childrens' veins,
And laugh when they cry with hunger pains."
O sisters! dear sisters who live in ease,
Surrounded by life's luxuries—
As you hold your nurslings to the breast,
Think of these mothers with care oppres't—
Think of their faces so pinched and white,
And try to imagine their pitiful plight,
When their famishing infants cry with pain,
And tug at their empty breast, in vain;
Then, by our motherhood, I plead,
Hear! and answer the children's need.

O sister! and you, my brother, too—
What if to-night God called for you?
What good have you e'er done, that He
Shall say, "Ye did it unto Me"?
And what, if t'were your bitter lot
To hear Him say—"I know ye not"?
Arise! e'er yet the day is o'er,
And freely give from out your store—
For learn, the password to the sky,
Is Charity! Sweet Charity!