182 MEMOIR OF GEORGE WILSON. CHAP. IV. 



As if each fleecy vapour cloud 

 Were falling as a snowy shroud, 

 To form a close enwrapping pall 

 For Earth's untimeous funeral. 



" Then all her faith and gladness fled, 



And nothing left but black despair, 

 Eve madly wished she had been dead, 



Or never born a pilgrim there. 

 But, as she wept, an angel bent 

 His way adown the firmament, 

 And, on a task of mercy sent, 

 He raised her up, and bade her cheer 

 Her drooping heart, and banish fear : 



" And catching, as he gently spake, 



A flake of falling snow, 

 He breathed on it, and bade it take 



A form and bud and blow ; 

 And ere the flake had reached the earth, 

 Eve smiled upon the beauteous birth, 

 That seemed, amid the general dearth 

 Of living things, a greater prize 

 Than all her flowers in Paradise. 



" ' This is an earnest, Eve, to thee,' 



The glorious angel said, 

 * That sun and summer soon shall be ; 



And though the leaves seem dead, 

 Yet once again the smiling Spring, 

 With wooing winds, shall swiftly bring 

 New life to every sleeping thing ; 

 Until they wake, and make the scene 

 Look fresh again, and gaily green.' 



" The angel's mission being ended, 



Up to Heaven he flew ; 

 But where he first descended, 



And where he bade the earth adieu, 

 A ring of snowdrops formed a posy 

 Of pallid flowers, whose leaves, unrosy, 

 Waved like a winged argosy, 

 Whose climbing masts above the sea, 

 Spread fluttering sail and streamer free. 



" And thus the snowdrop, like the bow 



That spans the cloudy sky, 

 Becomes a symbol whence we know 



That brighter days are nigh ; 

 That circling seasons, in a race 

 That knows no lagging, lingering pace, 

 Shall each the other nimbly chase, * 

 Till Time's departing final day 

 Sweep snowdrops and the world away." 



