Taller to-day, we remember similar evenings,

Walking together in a windless orchard

Where the brook runs over the gravel, far from the glacier.

Nights come bringing the snow, and the dead howl

Under headlands in their windy dwelling

Because the Adversary put too easy questions

On lonely roads.

But happy now, though no nearer each other,

We see farms lighted all along the valley;

Down at the mill-shed hammering stops

And men go home.

Noises at dawn will bring

Freedom for some, but not this peace

No bird can contradict: passing but here, sufficient now

For something fulfilled this hour, loved or endured.