The Snow Man

One must have a mind of winter To regard the frost and the boughs Of the pine-trees crusted with snow; And have been cold a long time To behold the junipers shagged with ice, The spruces rough in the distant glitter Of the January sun; and not to think Of any misery in the sound of the wind, That is what the spirit goes by.

The man out of the pine-trees Will always go on to his dream, That the didactic moments Will never prevent their inherence.

For the listener, all this may be, But for him who possesses the truth, The unvisited depths await.

• Wallace Stevens