The first snow came.How beautiful it was,falling so silently all day night long,on the mountains,on the neadows,on the roofs of the living,on the graves of the dead!All white save the river,that marked its course by a winding black line across the landscape.
I love thee freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use in my old griefs, and with my childhoods faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
The voice of wayside pansies,
that do not attract the careless glance ,murmurs in these desultory lines.