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When now, unsparing as the scourge of war,
Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar;
Around their read more
When now, unsparing as the scourge of war,
Blasts follow blasts and groves dismantled roar;
Around their home the storm-pinched cattle lows,
No nourishment in frozen pasture grows;
Yet frozen pastures every morn resound
With fair abundance thund'ring to the ground.
As I saw fair Chloris walk alone,
The feather'd snow came softly down,
As Jove, descending from read more
As I saw fair Chloris walk alone,
The feather'd snow came softly down,
As Jove, descending from his tow'r
To court her in a silver show'r.
The wanton snow flew to her breast,
As little birds into their nest;
But o'ercome with whiteness there,
For grief dissolv'd into a tear.
Thence falling on her garment hem,
To deck her, froze into a gem.
But where are the snows of yester year?
[Fr., Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan?]
But where are the snows of yester year?
[Fr., Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan?]
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will read more
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cyprus black as e'er was crow,
Gloves as sweet as damask read more
Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cyprus black as e'er was crow,
Gloves as sweet as damask roses,
Masks for faces and for noses,
Bugle bracelet, necklace amber,
Perfume for a lady's chamber,
Golden quoifs and stomachers
For my lads to give their dears,
Pins and poking-sticks of steel,
What maids lack from head to heel.
Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow,
Filling the sky and earth below,
Over the housetops, over the read more
Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow,
Filling the sky and earth below,
Over the housetops, over the street,
Over the heads of the people you meet.
Dancing,
Flirting,
Skimming along.
Where's the snow
That fell the year that's fled--where's the snow?
Where's the snow
That fell the year that's fled--where's the snow?
Look! the massy trunks
Are cased in the pure crystal; each light spray,
Nodding and tinkling in read more
Look! the massy trunks
Are cased in the pure crystal; each light spray,
Nodding and tinkling in the breath of heaven,
Is studded with its trembling water-drops,
That glimmer with an amethystine light.
But where are the snows of last year? That was the greatest
concern of Villon, the Parisian poet.
read more
But where are the snows of last year? That was the greatest
concern of Villon, the Parisian poet.
[Fr., Mais ou sont les neiges d'antan? C'estoit le plus grand
soucy qu'eust Villon, le poete parisien.]