Winter 

Vanish the vernal
Joy that was Spring’s
Remains but the kernel.
The true and eternal
Inscrutable things
Existence – and Death
With his shadowing wings

Darkness, the sources
Of Life and of Birth
The Stars in the courses,
The Ocean-pent forces
That circle the earth
These with their sadness
Chasten our mirth.

Powers primeval
Stir in my breast.
In strange wild upheaval
Virtue and evil
Rise to the test
Of issues immortal
By Winter exprest.

Vain the devices
Which blossom in May
The sweet summer spices
Whose fragrance entices
Our manhood away –
Winter reminds us
“Cold is the clay”

Robert Rendall, Orcadian Poet.  1898 – 1967