CALENDAR
Till they burn brown and low, their ardor slowing,
Their passion at its final evening;
Over the fields the withering blasts come blowing;
Then follows Winter, ere another Spring.
Their passion at its final evening;
Over the fields the withering blasts come blowing;
Then follows Winter, ere another Spring.
Yet will we welcome the raw buffeting,
Thankful for this stern strength it is bestowing,
A goad to sloth, to deadened life a sting:
Prepare your soul for the new time of sowing,-
Spring will come soon.
Thankful for this stern strength it is bestowing,
A goad to sloth, to deadened life a sting:
Prepare your soul for the new time of sowing,-
Spring will come soon.
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