Poems (Bushnell)/The Year's Colors

by Frances Louisa Bushnell

XII THE YEAR'S COLORS

Rosy, rosy, broke the year,Ruby red and ruby clear;Flushed carnation through the sky;Flamed its joys up zenith-high;Bloomed above the spotless snows,Opening, as a splendid roseIn among the lilies blows.For the snow lay lily-pureAnd the snow lay marble-still;With a stainless heart, secureFrom the passion that would fillAll the earth and all the sky.Red, red, red, it mantled high!Red, red, red, it drooped down low!But it could not stain the snow.

Looking up the crimson height,Looking down to perfect white,Flame of sky and calm of snowSeemed to mingle in the glow. Kindling hopes and holy fire, All that draws our spirits higher, All to which our souls aspire, Chastened by a will serene, Fit for waiting, even long, And a heart all pure and clean, Angel-pure and angel-strong. Down the years, blest colors, shine, Of their glow and calm the sign; Promise of a far-off light, Warm with red and pure with white.