If, when the snow falls,

I go out at night,

Out beyond houses

And the last street light,

Across cold fields,

To walk in the wood

A long time alone.

I think it is good.

Good to be alone.

The trees are wet-black,

The still snow falls.

And I shall come back,

But not till I have seen

In the woods away,

Sleepy mist

Of the snowfall grey.

There is darkness in the wood,

And I walk there freed

Till I lose myself;

And I have that need.