Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
1133 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— Edited by Peter Carter
Added: 2 Apr 2003 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:46 PM | Viewed: 8702 times
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