Warm and cozy and couldn’t be more delighted with the Christmas gift of more snow! Merry Christmas, everyone!
The Snow-Storm
BY RALPH WALDO EMERSON
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o’er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden’s end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier’s feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
Come see the north wind’s masonry.
Out of an unseen quarry evermore
Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
Curves his white bastions with projected roof
Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
For number or proportion. Mockingly,
On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
Fills up the farmer’s lane from wall to wall,
Maugre the farmer’s sighs; and, at the gate,
A tapering turret overtops the work.
And when his hours are numbered, and the world
Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
Built in an age, the mad wind’s night-work,
The frolic architecture of the snow.
Merry Christmas Denise and family!!!
Merry Christmas to you and yours as well, Mary! Remember all those Christmas Eve’s at Aunt Mary and Uncle Joe’s? Have a delightful day…we are getting a good ol’ Christmas blizzard here!
Yes! Light fluffy snow and no power outages. A wonderful Christmas!
Wonderful indeed!
What a perfect Christmas snowstorm! My daughter and grandchildren are here from Georgia, so they had the full Maine winter experience–sledding, snowmen, wet mittens, maple syrup candy on snow, and warming around the wood stove. Our table is nowhere near as festive as yours, though. Love that woven runner.
What fun to have your grandchildren with you for a quintessential Maine Christmas! bet they’re tuckered out from all the excitement and play, Grammie’s house will remain an everlasting and wonderful memory for them. Happy almost New year and don’t forget we have a date to meet and spin after the holiday!
I love this–that line, “the tumultuous privacy of storm”–captures the enforced, wonderful solitude so well! Who wove your overshot runner?????
Love that poem and the craft of Emerson’s words. Years ago I worked with Ralph Waldo Emerson grandson cutting firewood. He was quite elderly then ( I was in my early twenties) and lived here in Maine. long story but a dear one! Don’t know who wove the runner…something in my grandmother’s collection. Not surprising that you would spot that!! Christmas day we had a lovely snow day and did feel ” the tumultuous privacy of storm”. Great fun,really.