#1449

Like mimic meteors the snow
      In silence out of heaven sifts,
      And wanton winds that wake and blow
      Pile high their monumental drifts.
And looking through the window-panes
      I see, 'mid loops and angles crossed,
      The dainty geometric skeins
      Drawn by the fingers of the Frost.
'Tis here at dawn where comes his love,
      All eager and with smile benign,
      A golden Sunbeam from above,
      To read the Frost's gay valentine.
~Frank Dempster Sherman, "In February," c.1886