NOW the little rivers go <br />Muffled safely under snow, <br />And the winding meadow streams <br />Murmur in their wintry dreams, <br />While a tinkling music wells <br />Faintly from their icy bells, <br />Telling how their hearts are bold <br />Though the very sun be cold. <br />Ah, but wait until the rain <br />Comes a-sighing once again, <br />Sweeping softly from the Sound <br />Over ridge and meadow ground! <br />Then the little streams will hear <br />April calling far and near,— <br />Slip their snowy bands and run <br />Sparkling in the welcome sun.<br /><br />Bliss William Carman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/winter-streams/
