The winter was here, the Yule Season too,
And the old year beginning to die;
Sweet Spring in its verdance, glad summer's bright hue
And ripe days of autumn'd passed by.

'Twas a likeness of her, who had lived in our midst —
For the spring of her life blossomed fair.
Her summer she painted with cheer and good deeds, whilst
In autumn her virtues were harvests so rare.

Her winter continued so happy and bright;
No bare trees, and no dismal rain
Could shut out her spirit of laughter and light,
For the sun shone through her window pane.

But just as her year was approaching its end,
Our Father in Heaven looked down
And said, "Ina Haynes, an angel I'll send
To bring you to me for your crown."

The new year begins with us God has left,
In Heaven her crowning takes place —
So, rather than sorrow and feel we're bereft
We rejoice, as she looks on His face.

— Mabel Cargill