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Stand here and look, and softly draw your breath Lest the dread avalanche come crashing down! How many leagues away is yonder town Set flower-wise in the valley? Far beneath Out feet lies summer; here a realm of death, Where never flower has blossomed nor bird flown. The ancient water-courses are all strown With drifts of snow, fantastic wreath on wreath; And peak on peak against the stainless blue The Alps like towering campanili stand, Wondrous, with pinnacles of frozen rain, Silvery, crystal, like the prism in hue. O tell me, love, if this be Switzerland -- Or is it but the frost-work on the pane?
Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Read poems about / on: flower, snow, summer, work, rain, water, death
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