"You're almost hidden down there in the snow,
And I see you shiver whene'er the winds blow.
If I were you I wouldn't bloom
If I couldn't grow with the roses in June.
What right have they any more than you,
To live in the summer when skies are blue
And bright with sunshine the whole long day?
They have it easy enough, I must say;
But you're so meekly quiet and white,
You're afraid to speak up when you have the right."