“Who gives snow like wool, who scatters mist like ashes. He sends his crystal like morsels. See how great is the difficulty, how obscure are the things that are said. Before the face of his cold, who shall stand? Whose? Nothing is said. Let us see, then, from the beginning what is said. And he fills you with the fat of…”
Jerome, 5th c. — Homily 57, on Psalm 147
Original
16He giveth snow like wool: he scattereth the hoarfrost like ashes.
Modern
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In context
14He maketh peace in thy borders, and filleth thee with the finest of the wheat.
15He sendeth forth his commandment upon earth: his word runneth very swiftly.
— Psalms 147:16 —
17He casteth forth his ice like morsels: who can stand before his cold?
18He sendeth out his word, and melteth them: he causeth his wind to blow, and the waters flow.