1 Winter reigneth o'er the land, Freezing with its icy breath; Dead and bare the tall trees stand; All is chill and drear as death. 2 Yet it seemeth but a day Since the summer flowers were here, Since they stacked the balmy hay, Since they reaped the golden ear. 3 Sunny days are past and gone: So the years go, speeding fast, Onward ever, each new one Swifter speeding than the last. 4 Life is waning; life is brief: Death, like winter, standeth nigh: Each one, like the falling leaf, Soon shall fade, and fall, and die. 5 But the sleeping earth shall wake, And the flowers shall burst in bloom, And all Nature rising break Glorious from its wintry tomb. 6 So, Saints, after slumber blest Rising shall awake and sing, And our flesh in hope shall rest Till there breaks the endless Spring.