The Cross of Snow

 In the long, sleepless watches of the night, 
A gentle face -- the face of one long dead -- 
Looks at me from the wall, where round its head 
The night-lamp casts a halo of pale light.
 
Here in this room she died; and soul more white 
Never through martyrdom of fire was led 
To its repose; nor can in books be read 
The legend of a life more benedight.
 
There is a mountain in the distant West 
That, sun-defying, in its deep ravines 
Displays a cross of snow upon its side.
 
Such is the cross I wear upon my breast 
These eighteen years, through all the changingscenes 


And seasons, changeless since the day she died.

Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem |

Poems are below...