The snow falls on the statue Love; she takes
No heed of this, but only plays her harp
And sings her quiet song. Beyond her there
The marble war-god, loving his sure aim,
Is ready to release his anger on his foe,
While far to left a ballerina twirls,
Her graceful arms and hands in love with joy.
Two white stone boys their giant turtles ride,
Their faces pure delight, with flake-kissed lips,
As round and round and round the snow does swirl,
Till I’m transfixed, in awe, with warming love
For all this great creation of high art!
I stand another statue, full and still,
And look on Love, and hear her silent harp.