Roses Beneath The SnowWhen the buds begin to swell And drink from crystal waters Between the crags and rills. I like the summer sunshine, Of the Golden West, And the crimson leaves in autumn That nature has encensed. To the mid winter season All hail with joyous song From heaven the feathery flakes, To earth come drifting down To purify the air we breathe-- And to fertilize the soil In every country, village, City, farm and town. Home may only be a dug-out On the mirrored plains Or a cabin in the woods At the end of the lane. But all is a merry homeland If we keep our fires aglow And in our pathway we will find roses Down beneath the snow. The Plains Poems in Kansas
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