Winter Trees

“The woods were in their winter sleep, Rocked in that repose divine On the wind-swept Apennine; And dreaming, some of Autumn past, And some of Spring approaching fast, And some of April buds and showers, And some of songs in July bowers, And all of love; and so...

Sentinels

“And hear at times a sentinel Who moves about from place to place, And whispers to the worlds of space, In the deep night, that all is well.” In Memoriam by Lord Alfred Tennyson  

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