A SNOW-STORM 



waves. The wind is not strong, but seems 

 steady ; the pines hum, yet there is a sort 

 of rhythmic throb in the meteor; the air 

 toward the wind looks ribbed with steady- 

 moving vertical waves of snow. The im- 

 pulses travel along like undulations in a 

 vast suspended white curtain, imparted by 

 some invisible hand there in the northeast. 

 As the day declines the storm waxes, the 

 wind increases, the snow-fall thickens, and 



" the housemates sit 

 Around the radiant fireplace, inclosed 

 In a tumultuous privacy of storm," 



a privacy which you feel outside as well as 

 in. Out-of-doors you seem in a vast tent 

 of snow ; the distance is shut out, near-by 

 objects are hidden ; there are white curtains 

 above you and white screens about you, and 

 you feel housed and secluded in storm. 

 Your friend leaves your door, and he is 

 wrapped away in white obscurity, caught 

 up in a cloud, and his footsteps are obliter- 

 ated. Travelers meet on the road, and do 

 not see or hear each other till they are face 

 to face. The passing train, half a mile 

 away, gives forth a mere wraith of sound. 

 Its whistle is deadened as in a dense wood. 

 Still the storm rose. At five o'clock I 

 S 



