Madison Julius Cawein

1865-1914

 

Snow

by Madison Julius Cawein

The moon, like a round device
On a shadowy shield of war,
Hangs white in a heaven of ice
With a solitary star.

The wind is sunk to a sigh,
And the waters are stern with frost;
And gray, in the eastern sky,
The last snow-cloud is lost.

White fields, that are winter-starved,
Black woods, that are winter-fraught,
Cold, harsh as a face death-carved
With the iron of some black thought.

Source:

The Garden Of Dreams
Copyright 1896
John P. Morton & Company, Louisville
 
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