Over the lonely meadows, falling snow
Whitens the shadows, spreading wings of light,
Feathering each hallow, casting up a glow
Ancient and mellow on the dark of night.
Softer than moonbeams shines this tender mood
After the weight of winter freeze has lifted;
A gentle cover for the solitude,
A mantle over scarred earth sweetly drifted.
Late in the darkest hour of night it falls,
Light into the darkness, memoried clover;
Blithesome when unblithe winter lays its palls;
Blossom when summer blossomtime is over.
A field holds bleakness with the summer past
Till through the darkness comes the snow at last.
