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For works with similar titles, see To — (Botta).

        Within these leafless trees,
            That bare against the sky,
        Their naked branches rear;
            Leaves, buds, and blossoms lie.
 
        So beauty's myriad forms,
            Within thy soul are sleeping;
        While thou, upon their sleep,
            A wintry spell art keeping.
 
        But soon the leaves and flowers
            Shall burst their living tomb,
        And fill the air around
            With perfume and with bloom.
 
        And buried in thy heart,
            Shall thought's fair blossoms lie,
        Forever unrevealed,
            To wither and to die?

This work was published before January 1, 1924, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.