Good Hours

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.

 

These excerpts are from “The Poetry of Robert Frost ”,
Edited by Edward Connery Lathem and published by Holt, Rinehart and Winston of Canada, Limited.(1866).
For more information about Robert Frost, see: http://www.robertfrost.org/body.html