I saw her standing bent
Upon the snow,
Shivering with each icy
Blast of wind.
Her tattered rags hung loose
Upon her form,
Remains of all her bright
And splendid robes.
She dreams of springtime’s warm
And sunny days,
When a gown of fragrant buds
Will grace her limbs.
She’ll dance with every sweet
Inviting breeze,
And sleep with nesting birds
Among her leaves.