It's Snowing

The white mist softly falls and fades Dancing in a symphony Each flake, a prima ballerina, The world is an eclipse wondrous white, Mysterious patterns make their way, Disguising ordinary scenes, Creating panoramic view Where’er the eye may fall. The world appears to wear a furry coat Of ermine hue, fragile as the morning dew Resting on the petal of a rose. A solitary cadaver of spring Slumbers beneath the blanket heaven sent, God is in His glory and all the world Reflects His purest image. The air is fresh clinging to each bough, There’s ne’er a garment which man Could e’er allow to garb a mortal In a cloak of such great majesty Nor tell of such infinity as this world Which is such a wondrous sight to see When it’s fresh in snow.