Snowbound

Snowbound

I've seen thee, flower, laugh in May,

But now confess to see thee bloom

Amid this waste of snow and gloom

It starts strange fancies into play,

And as I look to earth, to sky -

A sheet of white, a veil of grey -

I wonder why thou sought'st a day

Like this to breathe, and hope and die.

But, still. I would not have thee go;

Thy smile doth soften Winter's dread,

And I am glad my steps were led

To thee, thou dream of Summer's glow.

W.H.A. Moore

3:42, p. 2

1890.09.20