SNOW!

What a surprise -- we woke up to inches of pristine snow -- and it looks so beautiful! There's nothing like a snow storm on a Saturday morning when most don't have to hurry off to school and work. It's so peaceful, calm, white, soft, fresh, . . .

SNOW!

Lines Written After a Snow-storm

by C. C. Moore

Come children dear, and look around;
Behold how soft and light

The silent snow had glad the ground

In robes of purest white.

The trees seem deck'd by fairy hand,

Nor need their native green;

And every breeze appears to stand,

All hush'd, to view the scene.

You wonder how the snows were made

That dance upon the air,

As if from purer worlds they stray'd,

So lightly and so fair.

Perhaps they are the summer flowers

In northern stars that bloom,

Wafted away from icy bowers

To cheer our winter's gloom.

Perhaps they're feathers of a race

Of birds that live away,
In some cold dreary wintry place,

Far from the sun's warm ray.

And clouds, perhaps, are downy beds
On which the winds repose;

Who, when they rouse their slumb'ring heads,

Shake down the feath'ry snows.

But see, my darlings, while we stay

And gaze with fond delight,

The fairy scene soon fades away,

And mocks our raptur'd sight.

And let this fleeting vision teach

A truth you soon must know --

That all the joys we here can reach

Are transient as the snow.

(C.C. Moore is "the poet of Christmas Eve" -- 'Twas the Night Before Christams)