Poems (Mary Coleridge)/Poem 88

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LXXXVIII SUN AND WIND
Deep in the heart of Winter lies a day Bright from the treasuries of perfect Spring. Life stirs and wakes in each created thing.December sleeps, and dreams, and dreams of May.
Deep in the heart of Spring, when every flower Is radiant, comes a day of bitter wind. O blossom-laden boughs, untimely thinned,Groan, for December holds no darker hour!
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