Friday, December 9, 2016

Good Hours by Robert Frost & Illus by Henri Sorenson


Good Hours

I had for my winter evening walk--
No one at all with whom to talk,
But I had cottages in a row
Up to their shining eyes in snow. 

And I thought I had the folk within:
I had the sound of a violin;
I had a glimpse through curtain laces
Of youthful forms and youthful faces.

I had such company outward bound.
I went till there were no cottages found. 
I turned and repented, but coming back
I saw no window that was black.

Over the snow my creaking feet
Disturbed the slumbering village street
Like profanation, by your leave,
At ten o'clock of a winter's eve.
                                   --Robert Frost

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