Winter

    I had for my winter evening walk–

    No one at all with whom to talk,

    But I had the 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 but 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 eve.