 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
WONDERFUL SNOW.—JULY 1888.
There is snow on the rose-covered places,
There is snow fallen white at our feet,
And we laugh at the manifold graces
Of the summer and winter that meet;
In the green of luxuriant gardens,
Where the gay and the beautiful tread,
And the fruit that is mellowing hardens,
With its carpeting cold is it spread;
Up above in the cloudland of splendour,
On the hay in the pasturage low,
In the air, on the foliage tender,
Hangs the wreath of the wonderful snow.
There is snow fallen white at our feet,
And we laugh at the manifold graces
Of the summer and winter that meet;
In the green of luxuriant gardens,
Where the gay and the beautiful tread,
And the fruit that is mellowing hardens,
With its carpeting cold is it spread;
Up above in the cloudland of splendour,
On the hay in the pasturage low,
In the air, on the foliage tender,
Hangs the wreath of the wonderful snow.
There is snow on the head turning hoary,
As it bends with the burden of age,
With the crown of the years, that is glory
To the warrior leaving the stage;
Who has fought for his God and the nation
Of his fathers, and hero-like been
At the front, in the terrible station,
Ever faithful to conscience and Queen;
Sprinkled soft above wrinkles and hollows,
And the scars that the bayonet show,
Of the fame and the summer that follows,
Sweetly whispers the wonderful snow.
As it bends with the burden of age,
With the crown of the years, that is glory
To the warrior leaving the stage;
89
Of his fathers, and hero-like been
At the front, in the terrible station,
Ever faithful to conscience and Queen;
Sprinkled soft above wrinkles and hollows,
And the scars that the bayonet show,
Of the fame and the summer that follows,
Sweetly whispers the wonderful snow.
There is snow on the brow of the maiden,
On the delicate neck, and the arms
With their wealth of kind offices laden,
And it gives to her daintier charms;
On the hand, that caressingly lingers
At the ministry moving our thorns,
With its throb of angelical fingers,
And that all things it touches adorns
Breaking into a comelier blossom,
Hiding fire with its heavenly glow,
On the flower of the virginal bosom,
Lies the light of the wonderful snow.
On the delicate neck, and the arms
With their wealth of kind offices laden,
And it gives to her daintier charms;
On the hand, that caressingly lingers
At the ministry moving our thorns,
With its throb of angelical fingers,
And that all things it touches adorns
Breaking into a comelier blossom,
Hiding fire with its heavenly glow,
On the flower of the virginal bosom,
Lies the light of the wonderful snow.
There is snow in the life, that is purest
And enlinked with whatever is fair,
That from honour goes sacred and surest,
And can breathe but the loftiest air;
In the service that suffers, and lowly
Stooping down takes the weak to its side,
With the love that is humble, and holy
Rises up on the ruins of pride;
In the heart that is human and loyal,
Like the sea in its infinite flow,
And the home of Divinity royal,
Is the secret of wonderful snow.
And enlinked with whatever is fair,
That from honour goes sacred and surest,
And can breathe but the loftiest air;
In the service that suffers, and lowly
Stooping down takes the weak to its side,
With the love that is humble, and holy
Rises up on the ruins of pride;
In the heart that is human and loyal,
Like the sea in its infinite flow,
And the home of Divinity royal,
Is the secret of wonderful snow.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |