His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
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Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
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RGB: 202 229 255
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RGB: 214 240 252
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RGB: 241 242 248
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RGB: 244 249 253
* * * * * *
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
