We see this poem taking place in a simple little one-room log cabin (think Little House on the Prairie). Maybe there's a moose head on the wall. There's definitely a wood stove, a comfy old chair, and the smell of pipe smoke. If you peek out the window, you can see it's a cold, stormy night, and far, far away, you can see a little town lit by gas lights. The guy who lives in this cabin has a little farm; maybe he's been out chopping wood and left his axe by the door. He's got a small shelf of favorite old books, and he wants to hear a poem from one of them before he drifts off to sleep.