The Summer Queen Has Many Flowers To Deck Her Sunny Hair, And Trailing Grasses, Pure And Sweet, To Scent The Heavy Air; And Upward Through The Misty Sky There Is A Glory Too, Of Floating Clouds And Rifts Of Gold And Depths Of Smiling Blue. Yet Winter, Too, Can Boast A Wealth Of Flowers Pure And White; A Kingly Crown Of Frosted Gems-- A Wreath Of Sparkling Light; So Bright And Beautiful, Indeed, It Were A Wondrous Sight To See A World Of Fragile Flowers Sprung Up Within A Night. And Sometimes There Are Cast'Es, Too, Of Glittering Ice And Snow, Piled High Upon Our Window-Panes 'Neath Curtains Hanging Low; And They Are Like The Castles Fair Our Day-Dreams Build For Aye; A Frozen Mist That One Warm Breath May Quickly Drive Away. And Yet, How Beautiful They Are, These Flowers Of Our Breath; That Bloom When Not A Leaf Is Left To Mourn The Summer'S Death. And Oh! How Wondrous Are The Things That God Has Given The Earth; The Day That Brings To One A Death Smiles On Another'S Birth.