No breath of wind, No gleam of sun -- Still the white snow Whirls softly down -- Twig and bough And blade and thorn All in an icy Quiet, forlorn. Whispering, rustling, Through the air, On sill and stone, Roof -- everywhere, It heaps its powdery Crystal flakes, Of every tree A mountain makes; Till pale and faint At shut of day, Stoops from the West One wintry ray. And, feathered in fire, Where ghosts the moon, A robin shrills His lonely tune. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD ARM-CHAIR by ELIZA COOK THE DOVE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR SONGO RIVER; CONNECTING LAKE SEBAGO AND LONG LAKE by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CROSSING BROOKLYN FERRY by WALT WHITMAN E.W.T.: ON THE DEATH OF HIS BETTY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN SONG OF THE BOOKWORM by ABBIE FARWELL BROWN A PIPE OF TOBACCO (MR. PHILLIP'S STYLE IMITATED) by ISAAC HAWKINS BROWNE |