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: 112 179 230
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RGB: 112 230 218
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RGB: 112 112 230
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RGB: 193 230 211
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RGB: 225 229 223
* * * * * *
In those fair fields where sacred Isis glides,
Or else where Cam his winding vales divides?
