November woods are bare and still – A Poem by Helen Fiske Hunt Jackson

November woods are bare and still;
November days are clear and bright;
Each noon burns up the morning’s chill;
The morning’s snow is gone by night…
November woods are bare and still;
November days are bright and good;
Life’s noon burns up life’s morning chill;
Life’s night rests feet which long have stood…
~Helen Fiske Hunt Jackson (1830–1885), “Down to Sleep.”