Snow

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Title:     Snow
Author: Herbert Edward Palmer [More Titles by Palmer]

My heart delights in poet's minstrelsie,
In pictures ranged down some long gallerie,
In mandolins and all sweet melodie.

And yet, when I go walking through the woods
On frosty days, and watch the falling snow,
I would renounce all Culture's radiant moods
To live in ice-lands with the Eskimo.

How purely gleams the mantle of the snow!
How softly sing the myriad silver tongues
Of whirling flakes that wrought Earth's overthrow!

With the keen air I fill my tired lungs,
And shout for joy and dance for very mirth
Because all Heaven has fallen down to Earth.
And in this mood I'd save my soul, and so
Through pure clean ways right into Heaven go.

[The end]
Herbert Edward Palmer's poem: Snow

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