poet Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

#27 on top 500 poets

The Cross Of Snow

In the long, sleepless watches of the night,
A gentle face -- the face of one long dead --
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
Here in this room she died; and soul more white
Never through martyrdom of fire was led
To its repose; nor can in books be read
The legend of a life more benedight.
There is a mountain in the distant West
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast
These eighteen years, through all the changingscenes

And seasons, changeless since the day she died.

Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 1, 2004

Add this poem to MyPoemList

Rating Card

4,8 out of 5
11 total ratings
rate this poem

Comments about The Cross Of Snow by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

  • Gangadharan Nair Pulingat (1/29/2015 7:58:00 AM)

    Death of a near one is always painful. When it relates to the better half the sadness is more and here the poet writes the poem in extreme sadness and it is great.

    Report Reply
    0 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Liandra Schoot (6/15/2008 8:41:00 PM)

    I love this sad poem, it really reflects the love of the poet for his dead wife, whom he will remember and love forever.

    Report Reply
    3 person liked.
    1 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: snow, fire, night, sun, light