Poetry Performed Episode 022 - On Snow by Jonathan Swift

Episode 022 - On Snow by Jonathan Swift
This week, a playful poem from Jonathan Swift, exploring the riddle that is our wintery friend - snow.

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On Snow by Jonathan Swift

A Riddle

From Heaven I fall, though from earth I begin.
No lady alive can show such a skin.
I’m bright as an angel, and light as a feather,
But heavy and dark, when you squeeze me together.
Though candor and truth in my aspect I bear,
Yet many poor creatures I help to insnare.
Though so much of Heaven appears in my make,
The foulest impressions I easily take.
My parent and I produce one another,
The mother the daughter, the daughter the mother.

That was On Snow by Jonathan Swift. Born in 1667, Jonathan Swift is one of the world’s most famous satirists. In addition to his satire, he was a highly active writer, writing poetry, political pamphlets, and essayist. He was also a cleric who would eventually become Dean of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin.

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