FAIR Nature, like the mother of a wayward child
Who needs must chide the offspring of her heart,
Disguiseth for a season all the sweet and mild
Maternal softness for an austere part.
And’ neath her frown the errant earth in winter seems
Prostrate to lie, and petulant of mood;
Restrained in icy fetters all the babbling streams,
Like naughty babes who’ re learning to be good.
Then, in this second month, most motherlike again,
The frown assumed gives now and then a place
To soft indulgent glances, lessening the pain,
And hints of spring and pardon light her face.