 | Poems |  |
TRODDEN.
There are steps upon the snow:
It was spotless once and fair,
What stain could it know,
Falling through the air?
It was spotless once and fair,
What stain could it know,
Falling through the air?
Alas! upon the earth
It fluttered and lay low,
Forgetful of its birth.
And steps are on the snow.
It fluttered and lay low,
Forgetful of its birth.
And steps are on the snow.
There are steps upon the snow,
It is trodden and unclean:
What now shall ever show
The whiteness that hath been?
It is trodden and unclean:
What now shall ever show
The whiteness that hath been?
101
So innocent and still,
Out of heaven floating slow
Over forest, field, and hill.
But steps are on the snow!
Out of heaven floating slow
Over forest, field, and hill.
But steps are on the snow!
There are steps upon the snow
It is stained with mire and clay:
When the rain of Spring shall flow
Will it wash them all away?
It is stained with mire and clay:
When the rain of Spring shall flow
Will it wash them all away?
Ah! when the sweeping rain
Drops heavily and slow,
It will wash away the stain,
—And wash away the snow.
Drops heavily and slow,
It will wash away the stain,
—And wash away the snow.
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