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Here in the Time of the Winter Morn

Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love,
I see the Sunlit leaves of changing hue
Burn clear against a sky of tender blue,
Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love.
Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love,
I hear the low tone bells of changing song
Ring clear upon the air the full day long,
Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love.
I hear the bells, I see the changing leaves,
And one lone heart for Summer silent grieves,
Here in the time of the Winter morn, Love.

This poem is in the public domain. Published in Poem-a-Day on January 2, 2022, by the Academy of American Poets.

William H. A. Moore was a poet and journalist. He was the author of a collection of poems, Dusk Songs, which was excerpted in James Weldon Johnson’s The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922).

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About this Poem

“Here in the Time of the Winter Morn” appeared in The Crisis III, no. 3 (January, 1912).

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More by this poet

Dusk Song

The garden is very quiet to-night,
The dusk has gone with the Evening Star,
And out on the bay a lone ship light
Makes a silver pathway over the bar
Where the sea sings low.

William Moore

1922

It Was Not Fate

It was not fate which overtook me,
Rather a wayward, wilful wind
That blew hot for awhile
And then, as the even shadows came, blew cold.
What pity it is that a man grown old in life’s dreaming
Should stop, e’en for a moment, to look into a woman’s eyes.
And I forgot!

William Moore

1922

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Here in the Time of the Winter Morn

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