The Boastful Snowflake

A snowflake remarked to his mother one day, His calm sweet mother of cloud so gray, “When I fall to earth, there’s none but will know, For I’ll fall with a whiz, and a whir, and a go! I’ll pile up a drift by myself, all alone, As high as a steeple and hard as a stone. I’ll roll up a snowball as round as the moon, And big as the sun when he shines out at noon. I’ll make a great snow-man, so tall and so grand He can hold a whole boy in the palm of his hand. Here I go! See me fly! One and all, look at me! I’m a Snowflake from Cloudland--at last I am free!” He drifted to earth like a feather afloat, A gallant young sailor, a breeze for a boat, When a wonderful flower appeared to his view, All dewy with fragrance, all brilliant of hue. He longed to caress it, give one kiss so light, He yearned just to touch it, and paused in his flight-- Alas, for the snowflake--ambition grew weak, He died for the rose on a soft baby cheek!