A path at midway, idly found
I chanced across, while walking late
Over chilly, frozen ground
That the green had long obscured
I half turned back, and longed to stay
But the wilderness had its say
And, by listlessness, I was betrayed
That has drawn me there, so far astray
It was hidden before by the wide oak trees
Whose leaves had fallen, there to wait
Stripped by cold, and thoughtless fray
Of the winter storms, whose handiwork
Had left the sky a surly, ashen gray
Well concealed from prying eyes
For a wanderer, such as I
That he may, sole, seclude
His loneliness, from interlude
And trod the bare, earthen way
That it should take him as far as it may
And, where he might stop, to lean
Against a kind, and sturdy tree
Here should, for a while, stay
There to find some peace at last
Where unmarked snow met yellow grass
And there, his every care would lay
To rest