Bright days of winter, hither ye come,
Like dwellers in light, who have wander'd from home;
O ye soar quickly by us, on pinions so light.
And though few are your numbers, yet rapid your flight.
There is cold in your sunshine, in its sweetness alloy,
In your smile there is sadness, though mingled with joy—
O bright days of winter, though hither ye come.
Ye are dwellers in light who have wander'd from home.

Bright days of winter, pale emblems are ye
Of the fast fading pleasures around us which flee.
Behold it is morning—their smile is so bright.
We look fondly on them—they have rush'd into night—
O the earth was a desert ere that sweet smile was known,
But the blackness of darkness is here when tis gone—
O bright days of winter, pale emblems are ye
Of the swift fading pleasures around us which flee.