She watched it spiral slowly down
With iridescent hues,
Transforming in a crystal gown
To satisfy a winter muse,

It slipped from birth to hibernation,
From droplet to an icy sleep,
No loss for any tribe or nation,
Yet, someday it may weep.

Sweet bride, is young, so clear, so bright
But growing dimmer still,
Your dress has turned a foggy white
Beneath the daffodil

The daffodil, whose mouth you kissed
Beginning his first spring,
Oh have affair, what timing missed
To wear your wedding ring!

How long shall winter keep you cold
And leave you waiting there.
To see his petals curl and fall
Beneath the frosty air?