The Snow that never drifts –
The transient, fragrant snow
That comes a single time a Year
Is softly driving now –
So thorough in the Tree
At night beneath the star
That it was February’s Foot
Experience would swear –
Like Winter as a Face
We stern and former knew
Repaired of all but Loneliness
By Nature’s Alibit –
Were every storm so spice
The Value could not be –
We buy with contrast – Pang is good
As near as memory –
