Robert Frost

They Were Welcome To Their Belief

Grief may have thought it was grief. Care may have thought it was care. They were welcome to their belief, The overimportant pair. No, it took all the snows that clung To the low roof over his bed, Beginning when he was young, To induce the one snow on his head. But whenever the roof camme white The head in the dark below Was a shade less the color of night, A shade more the color of snow. Grief may have thought it was grief. Care may have thought it was care. But neither one was the thief Of his raven color of hair.