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Winter

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Winter, some call thee fair,     Yea! flatter thy cold face     With vain compare     Of all thy glittering ways     And magic snows     With summer and the rose;     Thy phantom flowers     And fretted traceries     Of crystal breath,     Thy frozen and fantastic art of death,     With April as she showers     The violet on the leas,     And bares her bosom     In the blossoming trees,     And dances on her way     To laugh with May -     Winter that hath no bird     To sing thee, and no bloom     To deck thy brow:     To me thou art an empty haunted room,     Where once the music     Of the summer stirred,     And all the dancers     Fallen on silence now.

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"Winter, some call thee fair,..."

"Winter" is a quintessential example of Richard Le Gallienne's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...

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"Her eyes are bluebells now, her voice a bird,     ..."

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