Bleak winter is subdued at length, And forced to yield the day; The sun has waited all his strength, And driven him away. | And now long wished for spring is come, How altered is the scene! The trees and shrubs are dressed in bloom, The earth arrayed in green. | Where’er we tread, beneath our feet The clust’ring flowers spring; The artless birds, in concert sweet, Invite our hearts to sing. | But ah! in vain I strive to join, Oppressed with sin and doubt; I feet ’tis winter still, within, Though all is spring without. | O! would my Savior from on high, Break through these clouds and shine! No creature then, more blest than I, No song more loud than mine. | Till then—no softly warbling thrush, Nor cowslip’s sweet perfume; Nor beauties of each painted bush, Can dissipate my gloom. | To Adam, soon as he transgressed, Thus Eden bloomed in vain; Not paradise could give him rest, Or soothe his heart–felt pain. | Yet here an emblem I perceive Of what the LORD can do; Dear Savior, help me to believe That I may flourish too. | Thy word can soon my hopes revive, Can overcome my foes; And make my languid graces thrive, And blossom like the rose. | |