 | Stories that might be true |  |
THE SUMMER SNOW.
“As the blossoms fell off, pale and discoloured, early
in May, the leaves spoke thus; ‘These weak and useless
flowers are scarcely born ere they wither, while our firmer
growth, but all the more broad, and green, and shining,
outlasts the heat of summer, and at length after long
months of well-deserving, spent in rearing and sheltering
earth's finest fruits, we go to rest, decked with honorable
colours of renown, under the cannon-thunder of the
storm;’ But the fallen blossoms answered ‘We sink to
death willingly, for we have already borne our fruit.’
“Quiet and little noticed among our daily paths and
dwellings (too soon passing away!) noble benefactors,
without name on earth or record in its history! unknown
mothers! ye share not in the glitter of renown, ye pass
beneath no arch of triumph; but be not therefore discouraged;
ye are the blossoms!”
Jean Paul Richter.
“As the blossoms fell off, pale and discoloured, early in May, the leaves spoke thus; ‘These weak and useless flowers are scarcely born ere they wither, while our firmer growth, but all the more broad, and green, and shining, outlasts the heat of summer, and at length after long months of well-deserving, spent in rearing and sheltering earth's finest fruits, we go to rest, decked with honorable colours of renown, under the cannon-thunder of the storm;’ But the fallen blossoms answered ‘We sink to death willingly, for we have already borne our fruit.’
“Quiet and little noticed among our daily paths and dwellings (too soon passing away!) noble benefactors, without name on earth or record in its history! unknown mothers! ye share not in the glitter of renown, ye pass beneath no arch of triumph; but be not therefore discouraged; ye are the blossoms!”
Jean Paul Richter.Huddling close their heads together,
Flowers were heard to whisper there,
“Oh! the changeful April weather!
Far hence we saw them fly
Sullen frost and angry blast;
Not a cloud is on the sky,
Yet the snow is falling fast!
Soft falls the summer snow,
On the springing grass drops light,
Not like that which long ago,
Fell so deadly cold and white;
This wears the Rose's flush,
Faint, ere bloom hath quite foregone her,
Soft as maiden's timid blush
With the looks she loves upon her.”
Shook and stirred in merry scorn,
Thickest shower that fell that morn;
“Fast falling, one by one
Well ye name them, summer snow,
Blossoms giving not the sun
Time to kiss them ere they go!
All in such haste to die,
Fading, fleeting, one by one,
That the West Wind in his sigh
Scarcely mourns that they are gone;
While we, each changeful hour,
All the firmer, broader grow;
Waving light through sun and shower
Through the summer's fervid glow,
Round the fruit we cluster kind
Fed with honey-dropping dew,
Shielding safe from storm and wind,
But letting every sunbeam through,
Till warm it blushes bright,
And beneath our veiling shade
Peeps all rosy forth to sight,
Then, and not till then, we fade!
Spells solemn, soft, and strange,
Steal upon us, and we show
In a rich and wondrous change
Brightest when about to go;
O'er us shakes his torch of fire,
Quick we flash in gorgeous dyes,
Kindling on our funeral pyre;
Then sings the wailing wind
Dirges o'er us, as we lie
Wept upon by droppings kind
From a sad and constant sky.”
Not like you in splendour shrined,
Yet we perish willingly,
We have left our Fruit behind.”
Word spake they never more;
Gentle souls! e'en thus, methought,
Ye depart, but not before
All your quiet task is wrought;
Little missed or mourned below,
Slender record would ye find,
All your sweetness with you go,
But for Fruit ye leave behind!
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