Whenever a snowflake leaves the sky, It turns and turns to say “Good-by! Good-by, dear clouds, so cool and gray!” Then lightly travels on its way. And when a snowflake finds a tree, “Good-day!” it says—“Good-day to thee! Thou art so bare and lonely, dear, I ’ll rest and call my comrades here.” But when a snowflake, brave and meek, Lights on a rosy maiden’s cheek, It starts—“How warm and soft the day! ’T is summer!”—and it melts away.
Once before, this self-same air Passed me, though I know not where. Strange! how very like it came! Touch and fragrance were the same; Sound of mingled voices, too, With a light laugh ringing through; Some one moving,—here or there,— Some one passing up the stair, Some one calling from without,...
Whenever a snow-flake leaves the sky, It turns and turns to say “Good-bye! Good-bye, dear clouds, so cool and gray!” Then lightly travels on its way. And when a snow-flake finds a tree, “Good-day!” it says—“Good-day to thee! Thou art so bare, and lonely, dear, I ’ll rest and call my comrades...
[“In the middle of the room, in its white coffin, lay the dead child, the nephew of the poet. Near it, in a great chair, sat Walt Whitman, surrounded by little ones, and holding a beautiful little girl on his lap. She looked wonderingly at the spectacle of death, and then inquiringly into the...
Whenever a snowflake leaves the sky, It turns and turns to say “Good-by! Good-by, dear clouds, so cool and gray!” Then lightly travels on its way. And when a snowflake finds a tree, “Good-day!” it says—“Good-day to thee! Thou art so bare and lonely, dear, I ’ll rest and call my comrades here.”...
Swift o’er the sunny grass, I saw a shadow pass With subtle charm,— So quick, so full of life, With thrilling joy so rife, I started lest, unknown, My step—ere it was flown— Had done it harm. Why look up to the blue? The bird was gone, I knew, Far out of sight. Steady and keen of...
