Classic Poem

Fall, snow, and cease not! Flake by flake
The decent winding sheet compose;
Thy task is just and pious; make
An end of blasphemies and woes.

Fall, flake by flake! by thee alone
Last friend the sleeping draught is given;
Kind nurse by thee the couch is strewn,
The couch whose covering is from Heaven.

Descend, and clasp the mountain's crest;
Inherit plain and valley deep;
This night on thy maternal breast
A vanquished nation dies in sleep.

Lo! from the starry Temple Gates
Death rides, and bears the flag of peace:
The combatants he separates;
He bids the wrath of ages cease.

Fall, snow! in stillness fall like dew
On church's roof and cedar's fan;
And mould thyself on pine and yew,
And on the awful face of man.

On quaking moor and mountain moss,
With eyes upstaring at the sky;
And arms extended like a cross,
The long-expectant sufferers lie.

Bend o'er them, white-robed acolyte!
Put forth thine hand from cloud and mist;
And minister the last sad Rite,
Where altar there is none, nor priest.