It is five months off.

Knit, stitch, and hemstitch:

Sheets, bags, towels, these are the offerings.

When he is older, or she is a big girl,

There may be flowers or ribbons or money

For birthday offerings. Now, however,

We must remember it is a naked stranger

Coming to us; and the sheath of the arrival

Is so soft we must be ready, and soft too.

Knit, stitch, hemstitch, it is only five months.

It would be easy to pick a lucky star for this baby

If a choice of two stars lay before our eyes—

One a pearl-gold star and one pearl-silver—

And the offer of a chance to pick a lucky star.

When the high hour comes

Let there be a light furry of snow,

A little zigzag of white spots

Against the gray roofs.

The snow-born all understand this as a luck-wish.