Dark of the Moon

by Sara Teasdale

Lightly, lightly, almost gay

Taking the unreturning way

To mix with winter and the snow.

Winter

I shall have winter now and lessening days,

Lit by a smoky sun with slanting rays,

And after falling leaves, the first determined frost.

The colors of the world will all be lost.

So be it; the faint buzzing of the snow

Will fill the empty boughs,