DRIFT SOFTLY, WINTER SNOW
Drift softly, winter snow,
Beneath the wild wind's storm
There lieth still and low
A fair, unconscious form;
A heart as warm as mine,
Less than a year ago,
Of love and hope the shrine—
Drift softly, winter snow.
Beneath the wild wind's storm
There lieth still and low
A fair, unconscious form;
A heart as warm as mine,
Less than a year ago,
Of love and hope the shrine—
Drift softly, winter snow.
Drift softly, winter snow,
Above my precious dead,
Although he cannot know
That summer's warmth has fled;
He careth now no more
That seasons come and go
As in the years before,
Yet, softly drift, fair snow.
Above my precious dead,
Although he cannot know
That summer's warmth has fled;
He careth now no more
That seasons come and go
As in the years before,
Yet, softly drift, fair snow.
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