The Snow-Flakes: A Poem by Priscilla Jane Thompson
DOWN, DOWN, in millions, blending,
The snow-flakes gambol fast;
With eddies gay, descending, / Hurled by the winter’s blast.
Down, down, in millions, blending,
The shower seems never ending,
While a white spread is extending,
From the countless flakes, amassed.
Down, down, in millions, blending,
The snow-flakes gambol fast; / Each little drop is wending,
To a resting place at last. / Down, down, in millions, blending,
Our God the flakes are sending,
And a lesson is impending, / Which blind man fails to grasp.
Down, down, in millions, blending,
The snow-flakes gambol fast; / In mystic shapes, portending,
God’s wisdom great and vast. / Down, down, in millions, blending,
While scholars are contending,
And the sage his wits is bending
Unexplained, they drift and pass.
Published in Gleanings of Quiet Hours
Priscilla Jane Thompson was born in 1871 in Rossmoyne, Ohio. A poet and lecturer, she taught Sunday school at Zion Baptist Church and self-published two books of poetry, Ethiope Lays (1900) and Gleanings of Quiet Hours (1907). Her work inspired the Harlem Renaissance. She died on May 4, 1942. (Source: Poets.org)