Winter Vision

O to look out of my window,
When the fields are draped in white.
When the snow flecks all the fences,
In an awe in-spiring sight.

When the scars of earth are covered,
And the trees are rich in plume.
When the imprints on the grasses,
Wear faded threads upon the loom.

Where the hoar-frost hangs in tinsel,
And the posts are wearing hats.
As the garden stands in lattice,
With a filigree of slats.

Where the ice-rim on the water,
Makes an etching all its own.
And the mill-pond hangs in shadow,
To a silent depth of tone.

O sure...it is beholden,
To the crystal realms of sight.
When winter hangs its lovely grandeur,
On the candlewick of night.


E.P. 1908 - 1989