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Chloris In The Snow

William Strode

I saw fair Chloris walk alone,
When feather’d rain came softly down,
As Jove descending from his Tower
To court her in a silver shower:
The wanton snow flew to her breast,
Like pretty birds into their nest,
But, overcome with whiteness there,
For grief it thaw’d into a tear:
    Thence falling on her garments’ hem,
    To deck her, froze into a gem.

Online text © 1998-2008 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250-1900 | Clarendon, 1919

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