The browns, the olives, and the yellows died
And were swept up to heaven; where they glowed
Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide
And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed
Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed
From off your face, into the winds of winter
The sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing;
But they shall gleam with spiritual glinter
When paler beauty on your brows falls snowing
And through those snows my looks shall be soft-going
And were swept up to heaven; where they glowed
Each dawn and set of sun till Christmastide
And when the land lay pale for them, pale-snowed
Fell back, and down the snow-drifts flamed and flowed
From off your face, into the winds of winter
The sun-brown and the summer-gold are blowing;
But they shall gleam with spiritual glinter
When paler beauty on your brows falls snowing
And through those snows my looks shall be soft-going
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