As pure as the driven snowflake
Dec 15, 2021
3 minutes
![coulifuk211215_article_118_01_01](https://article-imgs.scribdassets.com/8tdlrikgcg9c9f31/images/fileDC3UR982.jpg)
Before I melt, Come, look at me! This lovely icy filigree! Of a great forest In one night I make a wilderness Of white: By skyey cold Of crystals made, All softly, on Your finger laid, I pause, that you My beauty see: Breathe; and I vanish Instantly. ‘The Snowflake’ by Walter de la Mare
SNOWFLAKE. The word is too clumsy for the white ice petals that tumble down the sky on wintry days. In righteous artistic protest, the American poet Emily Dickinson broke the noun delicately in two, to
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