This poem is a favorite as it reminds me of the times my mother and I would walk at night through snow covered streets. The quiet and stillness -and we would talk about the homes that seem so inviting.
Here is another Robert Frost Natures first green is gold. Her hardest hue to hold. Her early leaf is a flower. But only so an hour. Leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief. Dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay.