Snow in Towndetails

Nothing is quite so quiet and clean
    As snow that falls in the night;
And isn’t it jolly to jump from bed
    And find the whole world white?

It lies on the window ledges,
    It lies on the boughs of the trees,
While Sparrows crowd at the kitchen door,
    With a pitiful “If you please!”

It lies on the arm of the lamp-post,
    Where the lighter’s ladder goes
And the policeman under it beats his arms,
    And stamps—to feel his toes;

The butcher’s boy is rolling a ball
    To throw at the man with the coals,
And old Mrs Ingram has fastened a piece
    Of flannel under her soles;

No sound there is in the snowy road
    From the horse’s cautious feet,
And all is hushed but the postman’s knocks
    Rat-tatting down the street.

Till the men come round with shovels
    To clear the snow away,—
What a pity it is that when it falls
    They never let it stay!

Rickman mark