Now clothed with snow is hill and dale,
And all the streams with ice are bound!
How chilling is the wintry gale!
How bleak and drear the scene around!
Yet midst the gloom bright gleams appear,
Our drooping spirits to sustain,
Hope kindly whispers in the ear
Sweet Spring will soon return again.
’Tis thus, old friend, with you and me
Life’s Spring and Summer both are flown,
The marks of wintry age we see,
Our locks to frosty white are grown.
O let us then our voices raise,
For favours past due homage bring;
Thus spend the winter of our days,
Till God proclaims a glorious Spring.