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English Poetry. Helen Gray Cone. Sister Snow. Хелен Грей Коун.






Helen Gray Cone (Хелен Грей Коун)

Sister Snow

Praised be our Lord (to echo the sweet phrase
Of saintly Francis) for our sister Snow:
Whose soft, soft coming never man may know
By any sound; whose down-light touch allays
All fevers of worn earth. She clothes the days
In garments without spot, and hence doth go
Her noiseless shuttle swiftly to and fro,
And very pure, and pleasant, are her ways.

   But yesterday, how loveless looked the skies!
How cold the sun's last glance, and unbenign,
Across the field forsaken, russet-leaved!
Now pearly peace on all the landscape lies.
—Wast thou not sent us, Sister, for a sign
Of that vast Mercy of God, else unconceived?

Helen Gray Cone’s other poems:

  1. The Story of the “Orient”
  2. The Ride to the Lady
  3. The Glorious Company
  4. The House of Hate
  5. The Arrowmaker




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