The Snowing of the Pines / Thomas Wentworth Higginson

The Snowing of the Pines

Softer than silence, stiller than still air
Float down from high pine-boughs the slender leaves.
The forest floor its annual boon receives
That comes like snowfall, tireless, tranquil, fair.
Gently they glide, gently they clothe the bare
Old rocks with grace. Their fall a mantle weaves
Of paler yellow than autumnal sheaves
Or those strange blossoms the witch-hazels wear.
Athwart long aisles the sunbeams pierce their way;
High up, the crows are gathering for the night;
The delicate needles fill the air; the jay
Takes through their golden mist his radiant flight;
They fall and fall, till at November’s close
The snow-flakes drop as lightly — snows on snows.

~~
Thomas Wentworth Higginson (1823-1911)
from The World's Best Poetry, 1904

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Thomas Wentworth Higginson biography

The February Hush / Thomas Wentworth Higginson

The February Hush

Snow o’er the darkening moorlands,
Flakes fill the quiet air;
Drifts in the forest hollows,
And a soft mask everywhere.

The nearest twig on the pine-tree
Looks blue through the whitening sky,
And the clinging beech-leaves rustle
Though never a wind goes by.

But there’s red on the wildrose berries,
And red in the lovely glow
On the cheeks of the child beside me,
That once were pale, like snow.

~~
Thomas Wentworth Higginson (1823-1911)
from The Afternoon Landscape, 1889

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

Thomas Wentworth Higginson biography