A Winter Eden
Acquainted With the Night The Armful The Black Cottage Blue-Butterfly Day A Boundless Moment The Code The Death of the Hired Man Departmental The Door in the Dark A Dream Pang Dust of Snow Evening in a Sugar Orchard Fire and Ice Flower-Gathering Fragmentary Blue The Generations of Men Ghost House In Hardwood Groves In Neglect Into My Own The Kitchen Chimney Love and a Question Mending Wall The Mountain My Butterfly My November Guest Nothing Gold Can Stay October The Onset Out, Out -- The Oven Bird Pan with Us A Patch of Old Snow A Peck of Gold A Prayer in Spring Reluctance Revelation The Road Not Taken Sand Dunes Spring Pools Stars Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening The Thatch To E.T. The Trial by Existence The Tuft of Flowers The Vanishing Red The Vantage Point A Winter Eden The Wood-Pile
A winter garden in an alder swamp, Where conies now come out to sun and romp, As near a paradise as it can be And not melt snow or start a dormant tree. It lifts existence on a plane of snow One level higher than the earth below, One level nearer heaven overhead, And last year's berries shining scarlet red. It lifts a gaunt luxuriating beast Where he can stretch and hold his highest feat On some wild apple tree's young tender bark, What well may prove the year's high girdle mark. So near to paradise all pairing ends: Here loveless birds now flock as winter friends, Content with bud-inspecting. They presume To say which buds are leaf and which are bloom. A feather-hammer gives a double knock. This Eden day is done at two o'clock. An hour of winter day might seem too short To make it worth life's while to wake and sport.