A Spring Harvest/"Dark Boughs against a Golden Sky"

by Geoffrey Bache Smith

"DARK BOUGHS AGAINST A GOLDEN SKY"

Dark boughs against a golden sky,
 And crying of the winter wind:
And sweet it is, for hope is high,
 And sad it is, for we have sinned.

Perfect is nature's every part
 In sunny rest, or windy strife:
But never yet the perfect heart,
 And never yet the perfect life!

Dark boughs against a golden sky,
 And crying of the winter wind:
And in the cold earth we must lie,
 What matter then if we have sinned?

For evermore and evermore
 Shall the great river onward roll:
And ever winding streams and poor
 Shall lose them in the mighty whole.