In the bleak mid-winterFrosty wind made moan;Earth stood hard as iron,Water like a stone;Snow had fallen, snow on snow,Snow on snow,In the bleak mid-winterLong ago. I know very few poems by Christina Rossetti, but her winter and Christmas poems and songs have found a special place in my heart, and this one more than most. …
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.Even as our cloudy fancies take Suddenly shape in some divine expression,Even as the troubled heart doth make In the white countenance confession, The troubled sky reveals The grief it feels.This is …
"Never again? Why not again? Memory has power as real as thine." #Brontë
This story is gritty, engaging, and awe-inspiring. It is a lesson full of warnings. It is history in action. And for all this, it should still be among the great works that we all read and learn from.
"One short sleep past, we wake eternally And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die." #JohnDonne #HolySonnetX
Madelyn Rose Craig 