"as if the world weren't full enough of history without inventing more." ~ granny weatherwax, wyrd sisters.
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,Arrives the snow; and, driving o’er the fields,seems nowhere to alight: the whited airHides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.The sled and traveler stopped, the courier’s feetDelayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sitAround the radiant fireplace, enclosedIn a tumultuous privacy of storm.--From “The Snow-storm” (1847) by R. W. Emerson
No comments:
Post a Comment