Grief is like a great flood. It washes away the past and keeps you stuck in the present dilemma, unable to run away from, the flood engulfs you and blinds you from everything else. When ever sorrow falls upon a person that person would ignore all other things around him and focus on the event that caused the sorrow. He would try to think of a way to fix it or to find a reason as to why it has happened. Sometimes because we shut ourselves down from the outside world more disasters happen and only end up causing even more sorrow.
Longfellow expresses his grief through the use of a metaphor, comparing his grief to a cross of snow that is deeply imprinted on to a side of the mountain. The sun's warmth can not reach it to melt it and so no warm that Longfellow feels can melt his grief for his wife's death. Like my metaphor of the flood it blinds you from other things and nothing can change it. Only time and time can be the factor that would change this grief. The mountain gets eroded and the water of the flood slowly finds its way back to the rivers and the ocean.
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