In Winter in the Woods.

By Robert Frost

In winter in the woods alone
Against the trees I go
I mark a maple for my own
And lay the maple low.

At four o’clock I shoulder ax,
And in the afterglow
I link a line of shadowy tracks
Across the tinted snow.

I see for Nature no defeat
In one tree’s overthrow
Or for myself in my retreat
For yet another blow.

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