THE FIRST SNOW-FALL THE Snow had begun in the gloaming, Had beer. heaping field and highway Every pine and fir and hemlock 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 I stood and watched by the window I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn How the flakes were folding it gently. 8 12 16 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, And thought of the leaden sky That arched o'er our first great sorrow, I remembered the gradual patience That fell from that cloud like snow, 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 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. 1849. James Russell Lowell. A DEATH-BED HER suffering ended with the day, Yet lived she at its close, And breathed the long, long night away But when the sun in all his state Illumed the eastern skies, She passed through Glory's morning gate 8 James Aldrich. c. 1840. MY SISTER'S SLEEP SHE fell asleep on Christmas Eve: The pain nought else might yet relieve. Our mother, who had leaned all day Her little work-table was spread Without, there was a cold moon up, Of winter radiance sheer and thin; 12 16 66 Through the small room, with subtle sound I had been sitting up some nights, Twelve struck. That sound, by dwindling years Heard in each hour, crept off; and then Like water that a pebble stirs. Our mother rose from where she sat: Glory unto the Newly Born!" So, as said angels, she did say; Because we were in Christmas Day, Though it would still be long till morn. 20 24 28 32 36 Just then in the room over us There was a pushing back of chairs, 40 1 With anxious softly-stepping haste She stooped an instant, calm, and turned; 44 And all her features seemed in pain With woe, and her eyes gazed and yearned. 48 For my part, I but hid my face, And held my breath, and spoke no word: The silence for a little space. Our mother bowed herself and wept: Then kneeling, upon Christmas morn We said, ere the first quarter struck, "Christ's blessing on the newly born!" 1847. 1850. 52 56 60 Dante Gabriel Rossetti. THE MOTHER'S DREAM I'D a dream to-night As I fell asleep, Oh! the touching sight Makes me still to weep: |