Ethelwyn Wetherald Poems
|3.||The Song Sparrow's Nest||9/16/2010|
|8.||The Wind Of Death||9/16/2010|
|10.||The House Of The Trees||9/16/2010|
|12.||If One Might Live||9/16/2010|
|13.||In The Crowd||9/16/2010|
|15.||Mother And Child||9/16/2010|
|17.||The Indigo Bird||9/16/2010|
|19.||The Hay Field||9/16/2010|
|20.||The Snow Storm||9/16/2010|
The Snow Storm
The Great soft downy snow storm like a cloak
Descends to wrap the lean world head to feet;
It gives the dead another winding sheet,
It buries all the roofs until the smoke
Seems like a soul that from its clay has broke.
It broods moon-like upon the Autumn wheat,
And visits all the trees in their retreat
To hood and mantle that poor shivering folk.
With wintry bloom it fills the harshest grooves
In jagged pine stump fences. Every sound
It hushes to the footstep of a nun.
Sweet Charity! that brightens where it moves
Inducing darkest bits of ...
O Master-Builder, blustering as you go
About your giant work, transforming all
The empty woods into a glittering hall,
And making lilac lanes and footpaths grow
As hard as iron under stubborn snow,
Though every fence stand forth a marble wall,
And windy hollows drift to arches tall,
There comes a might that shall your might o'erthrow.
Build high your white and dazzling palaces,