There is something in this: when you are prepared for snow, it can be beautiful and utterly magical.

Mr. Frost's work is not new to me. And I have railed and raved at the abuses of his quiet, perfect words. Both by the haughty and angry poets du jour; but more usually by well-meaning and sloppy misquotes "... I took the road not traveled by ..." etc.

The last stanza is very much my personal anthem. I had rather forgotten it; thanks, Byrd.