Emily Dickinson

The Snow That Never Drifts

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 –

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