How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year.

And yet in solomn thoughts I lay and dream.
As I shed a salty bittersweet tear.

The cold earth slept below;
Above the cold sky shone;

Outside my window the world is laced white.
While my pillow holds my head tenderly.

Out through the fields and the woods,
And over the walls I have wended;

Yet here I stay beneath my warm blankets.
Giving way to the alure of my bed.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:

I need shake me off this warm deathly slumber.
Arise and ready and go forth to church.

MJ Flack