Given And Taken
The snow-flakes were softly falling
Adown on the landscape white,
When the violet eyes of my first born
Opened unto the light;
And I thought as I pressed him to me,
With loving, rapturous thrill,
He was pure and fair as the snow-flakes
That lay on the landscape still.
I smiled when they spoke of the weary
Length of the winter’s night,
Of the days so short and so dreary,
Of the sun’s cold cheerless light—
I listened, but in their murmurs
Nor by word nor thought took part,
For the smiles of my gentle darling
Brought light to my home and heart.
Oh! quickly the joyous springtime
Came back to our ice-bound earth,
Filling meadows and woods with sunshine,
And hearts with gladsome mirth,
But, ah! on earth’s dawning beauty
There rested a gloomy shade,
For our tiny household blossom
Began to droop and fade.
And I, shuddering, felt that the frailest
Of the flowers in the old woods dim
Had a surer hold on existence
Than I dared to hope for him.
In the flush of the summer’s beauty
On a sunny, golden day,
When flowers gemmed dell and upland,
My darling passed away.
Now I chafed at the brilliant sunshine
That flooded my lonely room,
Now I wearied of bounteous Nature,
So full of life and bloom;
I regretted the wintry hours
With the snow-flakes falling fast,
And the little form of my nursling
With his arms around me cast.
They laid his tiny garment
In an attic chamber high,
His coral, his empty cradle,
That they might not meet my eye;
And his name was never uttered,
What e’er each heart might feel,
For they wished the wound in my bosom
Might have tune to close and heal.
It has done so thanks to that Power
That has been my earthly stay,
And should you talk of my darling,
I could listen now all day,
For I know that each passing minute
Brings me nearer life’s last shore,
And nearer that glorious Kingdom
Where we both shall meet once more!
poem by Rosanna Eleanor Leprohon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Snow Flakes
as i look out of my window i see snow flakes
blowing all around landing gently on the ground.
the falling flakes set my heart all aglow.
as it makes a blanket of pure white snow.
creating such a beautiful sight.
the snow just like a heart can be gentle to the touch
yet! cold as ice.
if you plan on playing with it you better think twice.
the heart is the most complex part of the human body
it controls the entire anatomy.
so as the snow trickles down and creates a picture of purity.
and its coldness touches my bones
in my heart grows the warmth of a fire
with all of its desire.
to melt the coldness in your heart
just so you could see.
even the coldest of hearts can belong to me.
but when you want true beauty look up to the sky.
it is not the snow flakes coming down
but the love of god which is all around.
poem by Louis Rams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
And The Snow Fell
I remember big soft wet flakes
falling on the tracks all the way
streets filling with that wet snow
the trolley I was riding plowing
through fields of city snow
like a big red bulldozer
I remember clear as day
sitting with Ma at the table
in the kitchen looking out
at the snow falling
Ma and I sat there
streets and rooftops
disappearing in the falling snow
that covered all
and the snow fell along the Rhine
in Germany
and in the dark woods of the Ardennes
we sat there and watched
as the fields and woods in France
filled with gently falling snow
and my Pa lying dead
somewhere in France
and snow fell softly
all the way
across Europe
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Frost-King - Song II
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And on the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Brighter Shone The Golden Shadows
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And o'er the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The 'Power of Love,' by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Looking Good
I remember big soft flakes
falling all the way home
Streets filling with snow
the trolley plowing through it
like a big red bulldozer
I remember sitting at the table
in the kitchen looking out
at the falling snow
It snowed all night long
Ma and I sat there watching
streets and sidewalks and rooftops
disappearing in a white blanket
of snow that fell and fluttered down
and the snow fell along the Rhine
in Germany and in the dark Ardennes-
fields and woods in France filling
with gently falling snow
and my Pa lying dead
somewhere in France
as snow fell all the way
across Europe
poem by Michael Pruchnicki
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Frost-King' Song II
Brighter shone the golden shadows;
On the cool wind softly came
The low, sweet tones of happy flowers,
Singing little Violet's name.
'Mong the green trees was it whispered,
And the bright waves bore it on
To the lonely forest flowers,
Where the glad news had not gone.
Thus the Frost-King lost his kingdom,
And his power to harm and blight.
Violet conquered, and his cold heart
Warmed with music, love, and light;
And his fair home, once so dreary,
Gay with lovely Elves and flowers,
Brought a joy that never faded
Through the long bright summer hours.
Thus, by Violet's magic power,
All dark shadows passed away,
And on the home of happy flowers
The golden light for ever lay.
Thus the Fairy mission ended,
And all Flower-Land was taught
The "Power of Love," by gentle deeds
That little Violet wrought.
poem by Louisa May Alcott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Death of the Flowers
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year,
Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere.
Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves lie dead;
They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's tread;
The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs the jay,
And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day.
Where are the flowers, the fair young flowers, that lately sprang and stood
In brighter light and softer airs, a beauteous sisterhood?
Alas! they all are in their graves, the gentle race of flowers
Are lying in their lowly beds, with the fair and good of ours.
The rain is falling where they lie, but the cold November rain
Calls not from out the gloomy earth the lovely ones again.
The wind-flower and the violet, they perished long ago,
And the brier-rose and the orchids died amid the summer glow;
But on the hills the golden-rod, and the aster in the wood,
And the yellow sun-flower by the brook in autumn beauty stood,
Till fell the frost from the clear cold heaven, as falls the plague on men,
And the brightness of their smile was gone, from upland, glade, and glen.
And now, when comes the calm mild day, as still such days will come,
To call the squirrel and the bee from out their winter home;
When the sound of dropping nuts is heard, though all the trees are still,
And twinkle in the smoky light the waters of the rill,
The south wind searches for the flowers whose fragrance late he bore,
And sighs to find them in the wood and by the stream no more.
And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died,
The fair meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side.
In the cold moist earth we laid her, when the forests cast the leaf,
And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief:
Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours,
So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers.
poem by William Cullen Bryant
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
Vote! | Copy!
I Feel That I am Free
To me the sky looks bluer,
And the green grass greener still,
And earth's flowers seem more lovely
As they bloom on heath and hill.
There's a beauty breathing round me
Like a newborn Eden now,
And forgotten are the furrows
Grief has graven on my brow.
There is gladness in the sunshine,
As its gold light gilds the trees,
And I hear a voice of music
Singing to me in the breeze.
There is in my heart a lightness
That seemeth not of me,
For today I've burst from bondage,
And I feel that I am free.
Free in the golden sunshine,
Free in the fresh pure air,
Where the flowers of the forest
In their wild homes flourish fair.
Free to thought to give expression,
To sing, to dance, and show
That the stern world has not crushed me
With its weary weight of woe.
Are the years of care and sorrow
But a dark dream of the past,
Or this new life but a vision
That is all too bright to last?
How exaltingly my spirit
Flashes forth its newborn glee,
As amid rejoicing nature
I can feel that I am free.
I have neither friend nor loved one
To welcome me, nor home;
And lonely through the wide world
As a stranger I must roam;
I know not where tomorrow
To procure my daily bread,
And tonight the waving branches
Must canopy my head.
But if I had a palace,
If of friends a gladsome throng,
If some darling one were near me
To cheer with love and song,
If I'd riches which were boundless,
No more joyous could I be
Than what I am, exulting
In the thought that I am free.
Free in the bright glad sunshine,
Free in the fresh pure air,
My heart with gladness throbbing,
And on my brow no care.
There's the blue sky all above me -
Not a prison roof between -
And at my feet the flowers
Nestle in the verdure green.
Hark! I hear the breezes singing -
'Lift thy heart to God on high,
Who hath brought theee back from sorrow
To this world of hope and joy.'
And the little nodding flowers
In a chorus sing to me -
'If God from sin shall free thee,
Then thou shalt indeed be free!'
poem by Owen Suffolk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
My Snowfall
My eyes behold its beauty
As my hand
Reaches out for its touch,
While my face
Feels that certain tingle
That makes me love
Snow so much!
My heart embraces its coming
The way a child frolics
In the fallen snow! My beautiful snowfall
Brings joy to my spirit
And sunshine to my day.
It doesn't matter
Whether it be a blizzard
Or a dusting of flakes,
Snow falling from the sky
To me looks the same
Any old way!
Snow, my ever lovely snowfall! Be it Valentine's Day,
President's Day,
And yes,
Be it Groundhog Day!
Let it snow
I walk in it,
As well as sing in it!
I play in the snow
And build my favorite snowman,
Then chase
Each falling flake
As fast as I can! Each breath of air
Feels crystal clear
Making Winter so very dear!
Each descending flake
Falls as if it were
A blessing from the angels,
Appreciating this gift
Of nature from God,
More than any other
Man created pleasure! Let it snow
As well as
Let the winds blow!
I wait for the snow every year,
And can't stop smiling
When it finally appears!
Snowfall, my snowfall!
poem by Holly Bianchi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Wintertime
Snow falling on the ground,
Little white flakes to be found.
Lift your head to the sky,
And watch the snow zippin’ by.
Cold wind at your back,
Nothing winter seems to lack.
A blanket of snow covers the Trees,
Winter can’t end. No please!
Can’t Jack Frost do his Job?
For a little longer, don’t make me sob.
Can’t I stay in this Wonderland?
I don’t want to return to golden sand.
But under the layer of cold, white snow,
Lies little seedlings ready to show.
I must say a grateful farewell,
To winter fun, for it was swell.
And say hello to summer sweat,
Instead of getting cold, we get wet.
Hello Spring! Hello Summer!
Goodbye Fall! Goodbye Winter!
The Winter's Spring
The winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please--no bees to hum--
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring--the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.
poem by John Clare
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Picture Me
Picture me on a cold, wintry day,
the snow crunching under my feet,
snow flakes kiss me as we meet.
They whirl and twirl in wintry dance,
on the look-out for romance.
My joyous heart beats its wintry song,
I once again feel young and strong,
Revitalized and energized, I record
my footprints in the snow to tell
this day has not gone by,
watching through a window pane,
the magic wonder of transformed rain.
poem by Elke Nigro
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Silent Snow
A single pane of glass divides
Myself from falling snow outside.
The first of many falling snows
That these white winter skies will know.
And taking then my quiet leave
The snow alights on cap and sleeve,
While walking slowly up the hill
I realize then the world is still
All still except for falling flakes
Filling fast the tracks I make.
All still except for swelling smiles
Growing with the snow in piles.
All still within a quiet mind
All still as footprints left behind.
poem by William Mcgehee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Easter Snow
Easter is a time
for change, sunshine,
but where's the sun
as I look out my,
window this easter
morning, what is this
I see, not more snow,
rain is ok, but
snow no, snow I
thought I had seen
the last of you,
but you just keep
coming, so white
is the ground as
snow flakes keep
falling and falling.
They say if it
rains easter sunday,
for seven sundays
we shall have rain.
Does this mean
that now for seven
sundays we shall have
snow falling on us?
Sun last few weeks
you have been so
kind to us, please
pay us a visit,
once again and
bring comfort to
these old bones of
mine once again.
They say we need
the moisture, so
rain wake up and
please fall on us, once again.
(4-8-07)
When The Snow Came
The snow started here, at about half past four;
Lightly, at first, but then it fell more and more.
Upon spying the first few flakes, I rushed to the shop;
The snow began to settle, but I hoped that it may stop.
But it continued to fall, creating a blanket of white;
Till snowflakes coated everything within my sight.
By nightfall, the world was bathed in an eerie glow,
Created by the bright reflection of the fallen snow.
Against the orange glow of a nearby street light,
I could see flakes falling, and swirling in flight.
Overnight, heavy snow had been forecast to fall,
But, luckily, for us, we had no extra snow at all.
I awoke in the morning, and saw patches of green,
And clear rectangles, where parked cars had been.
The snow was not half as bad, as I had anticipated;
I knew the snow would soon melt, and I felt elated.
The day brightened up and, very soon, the sun shone;
In almost no time at all, much of the snow was gone.
By midday, we were well into the very welcome thaw;
I’m hoping that, for a while, we won’t have any more.
Snow can create many amazing, picturesque scenes,
But walking through it, when it’s icy, I’m not so keen.
Whenever snow is predicted, I feel panic in my heart,
And I feel glad whenever the snow decides to depart.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Snow Dance For The Dead
Dance, little children ... it is holy twilight . . .
Have you hung paper flowers about the necks of the ikons?
Dance soft . . . but very gaily ... on tip-toes like the snow.
Spread your little pinafores
And courtesy as the snow does . . .
The snow that bends this way and that
In silent salutation.
Do not wait to warm your hands about the fires.
Do not mind the rough licking of the wind.
Dance forth into the shaggy night that shakes itself upon you.
Dance beneath the Kremlin towers—golden
In the royal
Purple of the sky—
But not there where the light is strongest . . .
Bright hair is dazzling in the light.
Dance in the dim violet places
Where the snow throws out a faint lustre
Like the lustre of dead faces . . .
Snow downier than wild-geese feathers . . .
Enough filling for five hundred pillows ...
By the long deep trench of the dead.
Bend, little children,
To the rhythm of the snow
That undulates this way and that
In silver spirals.
Cup your hands like tiny chalices . . .
Let the flakes fill up the rosy
Hollows of your palms
And alight upon your hair,
Like kisses that cling softly
A moment and let go ...
Like many kisses falling altogether . . .
Quick . . . cool kisses.
poem by Lola Ridge
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Snow Is Falling
Snow is falling: snow is falling.
Geranium flowers reach
for the blizzard’s small white stars
past the window’s edge.
Snow is falling, all is lost,
the whole world’s streaming past:
the flight of steps on the back stairs,
the corner where roads cross.
Snow is falling: snow is falling,
not snowflakes stealing down,
Sky parachutes to earth instead,
in his worn dressing gown.
As if he’s playing hide-and-seek,
across the upper landings,
a mad thing, slowly sneaks,
Sky creeps down from the attic.
It’s all because life won’t wait,
before you know, it’s Christmas here.
And look, in a minute,
suddenly it’s New Year.
Snow is falling, deeper – deeper.
Maybe, with that same stride
in that same tempo,
with that same languor,
Time’s going by?
Year after year, perhaps,
passing, as snow’s falling,
like words in a poem?
Snow’s falling: snow’s falling.
Snow is falling, all is lost –
the whitened passers-by,
leaves’ startled showing,
the corners where roads cross.
poem by Boris Pasternak
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A March Snow
Let the old snow be covered with the new:
The trampled snow, so soiled, and stained, and sodden.
Let it be hidden wholly from our view
By pure white flakes, all trackless and untrodden.
When Winter dies, low at the sweet Spring's feet
Let him be mantled in a clean, white sheet.
Let the old life be covered by the new:
The old past life so full of sad mistakes,
Let it be wholly hidden from the view
By deeds as white and silent as snow-flakes.
Ere this earth life melts in the eternal Spring
Let the white mantle of repentance fling
Soft drapery about it, fold on fold,
Even as the new snow covers up the old.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Doubting Heart
WHERE are the swallows fled?
Frozen and dead,
Perchance, upon some bleak and stormy shore.
O doubting heart!
Far over purple seas
They wait, in sunny ease,
The balmy southern breeze,
To bring them to their northern homes once more.
Why must the flowers die?
Prison’d they lie
In the cold tomb, heedless of tears or rain.
O doubting heart!
They only sleep below
The soft white ermine snow,
While winter winds shall blow,
To breathe and smile upon you soon again.
The sun has hid its rays
These many days;
Will dreary hours never leave the earth?
O doubting heart!
The stormy clouds on high
Veil the same sunny sky,
That soon (for spring is nigh)
Shall wake the summer into golden mirth.
Fair hope is dead, and light
Is quench’d in night.
What sound can break the silence of despair?
O doubting heart!
Thy sky is overcast,
Yet stars shall rise at last,
Brighter for darkness past,
And angels’ silver voices stir the air.
poem by Adelaide Anne Procter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!