Again the shadow moveth o'erThe dial-plate of time.
Let Winter come! let polar spirits sweepThe darkening world, and tempest-troubled deep!Though boundless snows the withered heath deform,And the dim sun scarce wanders through the storm,Yet shall the smile of social love repay,With mental light, the melancholy day!And, when its short and sullen noon is o'er,The ice-chained waters slumbering on the shore,How bright the fagots in his little hallBlaze on the hearth, and warm the pictured wall!thomas campbell
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