Snowfall

"She can't be unhappy," you said, "The smiles are like stars in her eyes, And her laugh is thistledown Around her low replies." "Is she unhappy?" you said-- But who has ever known Another's heartbreak-- All he can know is his own; And she seems hushed to me, As hushed as though Her heart were a hunter's fire Smothered in snow.

Sara Teasdale

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