Summary: Winter Solstice Special:<br> Merry direful winter.<br> ⁓The Voice before the Void<br> “Snow-Flakes”<br> Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br> Out of the bosom of the Air,<br> Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,<br> Over the woodlands brown and bare,<br> Over the harvest-fields forsaken,<br> Silent, and soft, and slow<br> Descends the snow.<br> Even as our cloudy fancies take<br> Suddenly shape in some divine expression,<br> Even as the troubled heart doth make<br> In the white countenance confession,<br> The troubled sky reveals<br> The grief it feels.<br> This is the poem of the air,<br> Slowly in silent syllables recorded;<br> This is the secret of despair,<br> Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,<br> Now whispered and revealed<br> To wood and field.<br>
