Snow

White are the far-off plains, and

The fading forests grow;

The wind dies out along the height,

And denser still the snow,

A gathering weight on roof and tree,

Falls down scarce audibly.

The road before me smooths and

Apace, and all

The fences dwindle, and the

Are blotted slowly out;

The naked trees loom

Into the dim white sky.

The meadows and far-sheeted

Lie still without a sound;

Like some soft minister of

The snow-fall hoods me round;

In wood and water, earth and air,

A silence everywhere.

Save when at lonely

Some farmer's sleigh, urged on,

With rustling runners and sharp bells,

Swings by me and is gone;

Or from the empty waste I hearA sound remote and clear;

The barking of a dog, or

To cattle, sharply pealed,

Borne echoing from some wayside

Or barnyard far a-field;

Then all is silent, and the

Falls, settling soft and slow.

The evening deepens, and the

Folds closer earth and sky;

The world seems shrouded far away;

Its noises sleep, and I,

As secret as yon buried stream,

Plod dumbly on, and dream.