---
title: Improvement Era
description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930.
authors:
  - Pearson, Sarah E.
collections:
  - periodicals
tags:
  - magazine
  - improvement-era
periodical: Improvement Era
volume: 2
number: 3
published: 1899-01
publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations
publisher_place: Salt Lake City
language: en
type: magazine
reference: 'Pearson, Sarah E., "Winter Thoughts," *Improvement Era* 2, no. 3 (January 1899): 226.'
source:
  url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera23unse
  transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers.
  identifier: improvementera23unse
start_page: 226
end_page: 226
rights:
  status: public-domain
  basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1899-01)
  source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera23unse
  publication_year: 1899
  note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1899, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright.
---

# Winter Thoughts

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WINTER THOUGHTS.
WRITTEN FOR THE ERA.
The winds blow chill through groves of sighing pine]
The clouds go driving swiftly overhead;
The wild bird's note is hushed; the swaying vine,
Its vintage gathered, now hangs limp and dead.
The grass is brown and sear; the deep ravine
Which erstwhile boomed an angry, boiling flood
Scarce boasts the tiniest thread of trickling stream
And nature shows her drear and saddened mood.
The year has had its bud, its wealth of bloom,
Its gracious fruitage, and its swift decay—
What matter ! years and cycles onward roll.
Today melts silently in yesterday.
Today has done its work. Tomorrow comes.
Her hand holds golden Opportunity—
And underneath the snow the roots will dream
Of bud, and bloom, and fruitage yet to be.
And so with life. Bright promises of spring
Take themselves wings—alas ! and fly away.
Though hope and love may follow close behind,
Stern duty by our side points out the way.
Oh, Angel of the gifts, from memory take
The rankling bitterness of vain regret
—
Of unavailing tears—the biting frosts
Of desolation help us to forget;
And spread the mantle, pure and white as snow
Of Charity to cover life's mistakes,
And let the root of Truth and Faith still grow
And promises of bloom and fruitage make.
So underneath the load of grief and care
. The years have brought, we seek the Source of Truth;
And know that God holds for us in his hand
That best of all the gifts, perennial youth.
Sarah E. Pearson.