Fall thickly on the rose-bush,
O faintly falling snow!
For she is gone who trained its branch,
And wooed its bud to blow.
Cover the well-known path-way,
O damp December snow,
Her step no longer lingers there,
When stars begin to glow.
Melt in the rapid river,
O cold and cheerless snow!
She sees no more its sudden wave,
Nor hears its foaming flow.
Chill every song-birds music,
O silent, sullen snow!
I cannot hear her loving voice,
That lulled me long ago.
Sleep on the Earth's broad bosom,—
O heavy, winter snow!
Its fragrant flowers and blithesome birds
Should with its loved one go.
