Steadily falls the meditative snow, Or fitfully, in sudden spurts of white; Now madly driven through a raging night, Now pacing like a poet, rapt and slow; But ever, as the slaty storm-clouds go, We look upon a world of still delight, No lingering token of that falling flight, A robe of lucent peace on all below. I pray that thus the closing of my life May shine in holy white and quietness, Whatever passion or abhorrent strife May tear me now with unrelenting stress. Come, cruel storm, and wield your bitter knife: On to the waiting peace I calmly press. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR ONCE, THEN, SOMETHING by ROBERT FROST THE MOTHER IN THE HOUSE by HERMANN HAGEDORN TO GIOVANNI DA PISTOIA ON THE PAINTING OF THE SISTINE CHAPEL, 1509 by MICHELANGELO BUONARROTI HELTER SKELTER; OR, THE HUE AND CRY AFTER THE ATTORNEYS by JONATHAN SWIFT ON THE PROJECTED KENDAL AND WINDERMERE RAILWAY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH BEHIND TIME by ALEXANDER ANDERSON EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 37. LOVE'S MY POLE-STAR by PHILIP AYRES |