The sky is full of snow about to fall,
The ground is hard and nothing grows within it,
The plants there all stand rigid, frozen, small.
O send your sun where once there was a summer,
And turn us back again to see your smile,
O break the stubborn heart that brought us winter,
O may your spring come in a little while.
But was that not a snowflake I saw melting?
Do I now see a snowdrop lift its head?
And what was that which woke the dormant squirrel?
And caused the hedgehog there to leave its bed?
To that lone song, long hidden in the hedgerow,
Come myriad echoes from every branch and briar,
The joyous sound grows with the sunshine’s brightness,
As Jesus Christ the Son is lifted higher.