Good Hours

By Robert Frost

1874-1963

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.

DayPoems Poem No. 2657
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/2657.html">Good Hours by Robert Frost</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

Poets  Poems