Snow is flying through the air
   And swiftly drifting here and there,
Lying in masses upon the sand,
   But the little snow-birds have no fear.

The sky above has a dark-gray cast;
   The surging tides are ebbing fast;
I hear the ocean's bitter sigh
   And see a huge ship's swaying mast.

Like some roughly scalloped wall,
   The ocean shapes the flakes that fall
In faint outlines with its foam,
   And leaves, echoing its dismal call.

A dark-gray haze o'ercasts the sea;
   No flowers are seen upon the lea;
For chilling winds have brought them death,
   And the day is a dismal one to me.

Everywhere the snow comes flying;
   Clams, upon the beach are dying;
The frozen sleet along the strand
   Is in accord with the ocean's sighing.

The sky keeps sending snowflakes down;
   The sun has left us with a frown,
And the snow, imbedded in the earth,
   Like it, is turning brown.

Great white flakes lie on my sill,
   Falling fast where'er they will;
The winds echo to the ocean wild,
   That's sending forth its dreadful thrill.


This poem is in the public domain.