After a snowfall, the speaker sees the river and lake as enchanted and everything turned to crystal—so delicate that speaking might shatter it. A familiar road and valley become new and strange, with trees decorated like spangles and stones edged in silver lace. In the moonlight, even a rabbit looks like a fairy creature, leaving a tiny trail across the snow. The mood is hushed, playful, and full of wonder, as if ordinary places have been quietly turned into a fairy tale.
The speaker then turns to herself and other people. Walking across the meadow, so smooth and white as suede, feels almost like spoiling it. She imagines that humans ought to glitter in satin or brocade to belong in such a scene. There is a gentle self-consciousness here: snow makes the world seem so beautiful that plain human presences can feel out of place.