First Snow

Once the white shrouds touch the earth below, As soft as whispered dreams you’ll ever know, And morning light with gentle kiss— Awakes to life and tuneful bliss.

Amid the crystals laid in still, All thoughts do rest, and calm unfolds, With nature singing rather than distress As life holds fast, through winter’s caress.

These tender flakes, each one a stare, The light shines through, the world laid bare; In each breath of cold, a warmth beats forth— A thousand hopes are woven north.

• Thomas Wentworth Higginson