Explore "Snow" by Robert Frost on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The three stood listening to a fresh access / Of wind that caught against the house a moment, / Gulped snow, and then blew free again––the Coles / Dressed, but dishevelled from some hours of sleep, / Meserve belittled in the great skin coat he wore.
Meserve was first to speak. He pointed backward / Over his shoulder with his pipe-stem, saying, / "You can just see it glancing off the roof / Making a great scroll upward toward the sky, / Long enough for recording all our names on.––