Poems (Schiller)/Drift softly, winter snow
DRIFT SOFTLY, WINTER SNOW
Drift softly, winter snow, Beneath the wild wind's stormThere 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 goAs in the years before, Yet, softly drift, fair snow.
Drift softly, winter snow— The light of the fair mornBeams with a softer glow When falling on his tomb.The stars that virgil keep, More sweet and tender growAbove where he doth sleep— Drift softly, winter snow.
Drift softly, winter snow, Above your covering,Where my beloved rests low I'll make my offering:Pale flowers that no art Can save from winter's blast,Yet they will show my heart Still wanders with the past.
Drift softly, winter snow, Beneath the wild wind's stormThere 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.December, 1869.