Desert Places Snow falling and night falling fast, oh, fast
In a lone winter evening,
I am glad I have had the experience of being removed—
Shall I ever return?
There I am from the house now,
And the spot above to give me, little do I lack.

To rid myself of what desire had seized,
Can only ease their wish, wisdom awake;
As it could draw a full loneliness deep,
Sound in the hush, like thunder from a rising sky—
Awake, to say hardly anyone to be found
In my treks through and beneath the world;

The sorrow gathers thick;
Everything in life is cast to shadows.
Ridges find the solid boundary where I lay back
As this was not the way to find my grief,
Nor could the night have settled harder still.
But rest means growth; the ice beneath my bare
Thin shoes turned glory as above
Roams fresh but finds horizons minimum instead;
Even this turns still, nothing will tire away,
Beneath the ground where I seem forever now.

It is the clear and stopping occasioning sound,
As I see it catching forth the still snow-white,
Far can cover me, and I will leave my life,
I could not have thought this blinding but to see
What bound exists for lonely heart and night.
It all is light again or even brighter again,
A simple way of lifting skies in spaces where
The floor was grave each time passed on inside.

• Robert Frost