Winter Dusk
The prospect is bare and white, And the air is crisp and chill; While the ebon wings of night Are spread on the distant hill. The roar of the stormy sea Seem the dirges shrill and sharp That winter plays on the tree - His wild olian harp. In the pool that darkly creeps In ripples before the gale, A star like a lily sleeps And wiggles its silver tail. R. K. Munkittrick.
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"The prospect is bare and white,..."
"Winter Dusk" is a quintessential example of R. K. Munkittrick's signature style... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...