Author John Banister Tabb When snow, like silence visible,Hath hushed the summer bird,Thy voice, a never-frozen rillOf melody, is heard.But when from winter's lethargyThe buds begin to blow,Thy voice is mute, and suddenlyThou vanishest like snow. Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments