Snow

'Who affirms that crystals are alive?'

I affirm it, let who will deny:

Crystals are engendered, wax and thrive,

Wane and wither; I have seen them die.

Trust me, masters, crystals have their day,

Eager to attain the perfect norm,

Lit with purpose, potent to display

Facet, angle, colour, beauty, form.

Water-crystals need for flower and root

Sixty clear degrees, no less, no more;

Snow, so fickle, still in this acute

Angle thinks, and learns no other lore:

Such its life, and such its pleasure is,

Such its art and traffic, such its gain,

Evermore in new conjunctions this

Admirable angle to maintain.