This is one of my favorite poems we've done so far this year:
The First Snow-Fall by James Russell Lowell
THE SNOW had begun in the gloaming, | |
And busily all the night | |
Had been heaping field and highway | |
With a silence deep and white. | |
Every pine and fir and hemlock | 5 |
Wore ermine too dear for an earl, | |
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree | |
Was ridged inch deep with pearl. | |
From sheds new-roofed with Carrara | |
Came Chanticleer’s muffled crow, | 10 |
The stiff rails softened to swan’s-down, | |
And still fluttered down the snow. | |
I stood and watched by the window | |
The noiseless work of the sky, | |
And the sudden flurries of snow-birds, | 15 |
Like brown leaves whirling by. | |
I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn | |
Where a little headstone stood; | |
How the flakes were folding it gently, | |
As did robins the babes in the wood. | 20 |
Up spoke our own little Mabel, | |
Saying, “Father, who makes it snow?” | |
And I told of the good All-father | |
Who cares for us here below. | |
Again I looked at the snow-fall, | 25 |
And thought of the leaden sky | |
That arched o’er our first great sorrow, | |
When that mound was heaped so high. | |
I remembered the gradual patience | |
That fell from that cloud like snow, | 30 |
Flake by flake, healing and hiding | |
The scar that renewed our woe. | |
And again to the child I whispered, | |
“The snow that husheth all, | |
Darling, the merciful Father | 35 |
Alone can make it fall!” | |
Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her; | |
And she, kissing back, could not know | |
That my kiss was given to her sister, | |
Folded close under deepening snow. | 40 |
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