Sweetheart Spring
OUR Sweetheart, Spring, came softly, 
Her gliding hands were fire, 
Her lilac breath upon our cheeks 
Consumed us with desire. 
By her our God began to build, 
Began to sow and till. 
He laid foundations in our loves 
For every good and ill. 
We asked Him not for blessing, 
We asked Him not for pain — 
Still, to the just and unjust 
He sent His fire and rain. 

Sweetheart Summer
We prayed not, yet she came to us, 
The silken, shining one, 
On Jacob's noble ladder 
Descended from the sun. 
She reached our town of Every Day, 
Our dry and dusty sod — 
We prayed not, yet she brought to us 
The misty wine of God. 

Sweetheart Autumn
The woods were black and crimson, 
The frost-bit flowers were dead, 
But Sweetheart Indian Summer came 
With love-winds round her head. 
While fruits God-given and splendid 
Belonged to her domain: 
Baskets of corn in perfect ear 
And grapes with purple stain, 
The treacherous winds persuaded her 
Spring Love was in the wood 
Altho' the end of love was hers — 
Fruition, Motherhood. 

Sweetheart Winter
We had done naught of service 
To win our Maker's praise. 
Yet Sweetheart Winter came to us 
To gild our waning days. 
Down Jacob's winding ladder 
She came from Sunshine Town, 
Bearing the sparkling mornings 
And clouds of silver-brown; 
Bearing the seeds of Springtime. 
Upon her snowy seas 
Bearing the fairy star-flowers 
For baby Christmas trees.