Snow Was General All Over

snow was general all over Cecil. It was falling on every part of the dark central river, on the treeless marsh, falling softly upon the Gut of Abner and, farther westward, softly falling into the dark mutinous Chesapeake waves. It was falling, too, upon every part of the lonely churchyard on the hill where Himself lay buried. It lay thickly drifted on the crooked crosses and headstones, on the spears of the little gate, on the barren thorns. His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead.

(my apologies to Mr. Joyce)