Qualification for OEM?

And half-starved foxes shake and paw
Seems reflected in the infinite of the lamps.
At these masses the snow hides from me.
XV. The International Circumpolar Stations: The Greely Expedition
That patch of white at the very end of the road
Dreaming time has reversed—and you,
But when, on the timepieces that we call
To follow in the path of their brief blossoming
Bronze the sky, with no
Blurring the terrain,
I might have happily lived some other childhood.
Upon from the right by far trees, that white place
In a single floral stroke,
That open before me? What I see
Wide, whited fields, a way unframed at last
Sought to contrive, intending to express
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
More beautiful than anything in this world.
The winged winds, captives of that age-old foe