For the twilight, the wet snow, Heaped on the branch, The soft white blurring with solids All angles and edges. But the dry snow, Granular, Sand out of space, Jewel cut, Is for the night to wear. Polished aloft in the metaphysical tides That swirl between stars, Its meanings are other Than the frozen rain of a low cloud. Orion's belt, hung in the fork Of the stripped beech Is kin to this snow, Restless on eaves and fence-rails, Fanned like the plume of Everest, To make visible The polar wind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ATELIER CEZANNE by CLARENCE MAJOR THE PROTESTATION by THOMAS CAREW TO A FAT LADY SEEN FROM THE TRAIN by FRANCES CROFTS DARWIN CORNFORD THE BARBER'S by WALTER JOHN DE LA MARE BALLADE OF BLUE CHINA by ANDREW LANG A HYMN WRITTEN IN WINDSOR FOREST by ALEXANDER POPE TO A HIGHLAND GIRL; AT INVERSNAID, UPON LOCH LOMOND by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH |