Explore "The Buck in the Snow" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
White sky, over the hemlocks bowed with snow, / Saw you not at the beginning of evening the antlered buck and his doe / Standing in the apple-orchard? I saw them. I saw them suddenly go, / Tails up, with long leaps lovely and slow, / Over the stone-wall into the wood of hemlocks bowed with snow.
Now lies he here, his wild blood scalding the snow.
How strange a thing is death, bringing to his knees, bringing to his antlers / The buck in the snow.
How strange a thing,-a mile away by now, it may be, / Under the heavy hemlocks that as the moments pass / Shift their loads a little, letting fall a feather of snow- / Life, looking out attentive from the eyes of the doe.