Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the read more

Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.

But where are the snows of last year? That was the greatest
concern of Villon, the Parisian poet.
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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.]

Our Lady of the Snows.
[Lat., Notre Dames des Neiges.]

Our Lady of the Snows.
[Lat., Notre Dames des Neiges.]

Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies,
Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies;
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Through the sharp air a flaky torrent flies,
Mocks the slow sight, and hides the gloomy skies;
The fleecy clouds their chilly bosoms bare,
And shed their substance on the floating air.

Sancta Maria ad Nives.

Sancta Maria ad Nives.

Lo. sifted through the winds that blow,
Down comes the soft and silent snow,
White petals from read more

Lo. sifted through the winds that blow,
Down comes the soft and silent snow,
White petals from the flowers that grow
In the cold atmosphere.

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?]

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?

Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
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Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night;
For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night
Whiter than new snow upon a raven's back.