The win­ter is com­ing, is com­ing
The snow­flakes be­gin­ning to fall;
White mes­sen­gers sent from the north winds,
Bring sor­row or glad­ness to all.
The snow birds in door yards are chirp­ing,
Sweet an­gels of win­ter they come;
And blue­birds and red breast­ed ro­bins
To far away south­lands have flown.

The last rose of sum­mer is fad­ed,
Petunias and dahl­ias are gone;
The green tuft­ed gar­ments of sum­mer
Give place to the sno­wy white gown.
The trees have cast off their green dress­es,
Old earth is now shi­ver­ing and bare;
And ev­ery­where read we the les­son,
For win­ter’s fierce blast now pre­pare.

The win­ter of life, too, is com­ing,
Is com­ing to you and to me;
When the vi­gor and act­ion of child­hood,
Our por­tion will ne­ver­more be.
Then work, for life’s win­ter is com­ing,
Oh, lay up your trea­sure in store,
In Je­sus’ own hea­ven­ly gar­ner,
Where win­ters are feared ne­ver­more.