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--
