The Wonderful Fairies of the Sun/The Snowflakes

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The Wonderful Fairies of the Sun (1896)
by Ernest Vincent Wright
The Snowflakes
1470669The Wonderful Fairies of the Sun — The Snowflakes1896Ernest Vincent Wright

The Snow Fairies casting off

“And the drivers, decked with sleigh-bells,
Wave a merry, bright ‘good-bye.’”


THE SNOWFLAKES.

WHEN the Summer days grow shorter
And the Autumn holds its sway;
When the Flowers close up their houses,
And the Birds have moved away;
Then, up in the Polar regions
Where the towering icebergs rise,
Lots of little sleeping Fairies
Stretch and yawn, and open their eyes.


They’re the Sprites who drive the Snowflakes;
And on every hand, it seems,
Robes or jockey caps are scattered;
While their curious horseless teams,
Everywhere on clouds and icebergs,
Stand on end, or on their side,
In confusion, as they left them
From the previous Winter's ride.


When the North Wind comes and calls them,
All these Sprites rush here and there.
Setting up their scattered chariots,
Patching those that need repair;
Getting all things fixed and ready
For their drive through many a clime,
When Old Winter pops his head in,
Telling them it’s starting time.


Some of the Snow Fairies floating gently upon a roof

“Lighting on the trees and house-tops,
Softly, gently, side by side.”


Then the Aurora Borealis
Shoots bright flashes o’er the sky,
And the drivers, decked with sleigh-bells,
Wave a merry, bright “good-bye.”
Now they’re off! midst songs and cheering,
And the bells’ sweet jingling notes,—
Off to beautify some country
With their pure white sparkling coats.


There are two far different classes
Of these Fairies of the Snow.
One class, perched on downy cushions,
Rest in comfort, driving slow;
Lighting on the trees and house-tops,
Softly, gently, side by side;
Some preferring lofty mountains,
Fields and pastures, broad and wide.


But the other class are swift ones!
Standing firmly on their seat
They come dashing down upon us
In the form of Hail and Sleet.
Never thinking where they’re steering,
On they scamper, wild and rash,
Till they strike a tree or fence-post
And their chariot goes to smash!