Than spring's new scents
The winter's earliest wind
Blows from the hills the first faint breath
Of Snow.
Why have I
thought the dew
Ephemeral when I
Shall rest so short a time, myself,
On earth?
Than spring's new scents
The winter's earliest wind
Blows from the hills the first faint breath
Of Snow.
Why have I
thought the dew
Ephemeral when I
Shall rest so short a time, myself,
On earth?
© Adelaide Crapsey