The Ksenia-belle is such a flower
It seems to swell in icy shower;
Its petals gold ’round center white
Shine silent laughter day and night.

Within that white its two dots blue
Through winter’s cold beam warm and true.
Siberian snows do not make shrink
The Ksenian-belle, ’cause it can think,
And wink and smile, and dance and play,
As life were one long holiday.

While snow and ice do heavy mount
It deems the winter no account,
But adds up little bits of sun
To bigger bits—a happy sum!
And takes the “sum” and adds an “er”
Till “summer” is just ripe for—her!

Yes, “her,” not “it,” for such a flower
Shows more than human strength each hour!
And so I sing the Ksenia-belle
That joy in her may ever dwell!