Part 1 (1/2)

Snowflakes.

by Esther Nelson Karn.

DANCE OF THE SNOWFLAKES.

”Let's dance to the brown old earth to-night!”

Cried one little flake of snow; ”The autumn days have all pa.s.sed by,-- I'm tired of my home here in the sky.”

So they all agreed to go.

They dressed themselves in a misty film Of purest pearly white; Their feet were clad in velvet down, As soft and white as the filmy gown They wore to the dance that night.

Wrapped 'round with a drape of raveled gauze Were these little fays so fair.

When out from a cloud a pale star beamed, Bright diamonds sparkled, laughed, and gleamed In their fleecy, tangled hair.

All ready, so pretty a crowd were they That naught could their charms enhance; Then softly and quickly they sped away, For the whisp'ring wind was the cab that they Rode in to the snowflakes' dance.

They flew over housetop, hilltop, dell, With dances and with delight.

Though ne'er did sound of their presence tell; Wherever their fairy footsteps fell, All turned to a crystal white.

In the daintiest robes the trees were dressed, That ever you'd wish to see; The wayworn traveler, he was blessed, And stroked, and kissed, and soft-caressed, By these fays in rapturous glee.

Into every crevice and crack they peeped, They danced till the morning light; They left the print of their tiny feet O'er country road and city street, In frolicsome fun that night.

When the rosy face of the morning sun Peeped timidly out to view, He beheld the earth, last night so brown, Arrayed in a snow-white velvet gown That sparkled like dancing dew.

AN OCTOBER DAY.

'Tis sunrise o'er the eastern hills.

All hail! thou lovely morn!

Thy tender blush, thy mellow light Proclaim ”The autumn's born.”

All nature is so wondrous fair, Bedecked with golden sheen-- A fleecy cloudlet, here and there, In azure sky is seen.

The gold and crimson leaves that give The trees their autumn gown, Are scattered by the gentle breeze Upon the meadows brown.

Tho' summer flow'rs that were so fair Have faded, one by one, The goldenrod, in beauty rare, Her reign has just begun.

The grapevines now are laden with Sweet cl.u.s.ters, oh, so blue!

And scattered o'er the orchard ground Are rosy apples, too.

Oh, who could sigh for summer skies, For summer flowers and trees, For singing birds and rainbow showers, 'Mid autumn scenes like these?

As sinks the glorious ”King of Day”

Adown the western sky, He bathes the trees and hilltops in A flood of crimson dye.

He sets the westland all aglow Before he sinks away; So endeth, as a beauteous dream, This lovely autumn day.