Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912.
William Cullen Bryant 1794–1878
William Cullen Bryant29 The Snow-Shower
S
On the lake below thy gentle eyes;
The clouds hang over it, heavy and gray,
And dark and silent the water lies;
And out of that frozen mist the snow
In wavering flakes begins to flow;
Flake after flake
They sink in the dark and silent lake.
From the chambers beyond that misty veil; Some hover awhile in air, and some Rush prone from the sky like summer hail. All, dropping swiftly or settling slow, Meet and are still in the depths below; Flake after flake Dissolved in the dark and silent lake. Come floating downward in airy play, Like spangles dropped from the glistening crowd That whiten by night the milky-way; There broader and burlier masses fall; The sullen water buries them all— Flake after flake All drowned in the dark and silent lake. From their chilly birth-cloud, dim and gray, Are joined in their fall, and, side by side, Come clinging along their unsteady way; As friend with friend, or husband with wife, Makes hand in hand the passage of life; Each mated flake Soon sinks in the dark and silent lake. Stream down the snows, till the air is white, As, myriads by myriads madly chased, They fling themselves from their shadowy height. The fair, frail creatures of middle sky, What speed they make, with their grave so nigh; Flake after flake, To lie in the dark and silent lake! They turn to me in sorrowful thought; Thou thinkest of friends, the good and dear, Who were for a time and now are not; Like these fair children of cloud and frost, That glisten a moment and then are lost, Flake after flake— All lost in the dark and silent lake. A gleam of blue on the water lies; And far away, on the mountain-side, A sunbeam falls from the opening skies. But the hurrying host that flew between The cloud and the water, no more is seen; Flake after flake, At rest in the dark and silent lake.