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watching the snow.
He bears me on, steady,
Through whirlwind and eddy;
I cling to his neck, and he ever is ready
To pause at my beck.
Through whirlwind and eddy;
I cling to his neck, and he ever is ready
To pause at my beck.
White doves through the ether
Come flocking together:
How they crowd to me, proud if I smooth one soft feather!
O what is the matter?
They startle,—they scatter!
On the wet window-pane hear my eagle’s claws clatter!—
The snow’s turned to rain!
Come flocking together:
How they crowd to me, proud if I smooth one soft feather!
O what is the matter?
They startle,—they scatter!
On the wet window-pane hear my eagle’s claws clatter!—
The snow’s turned to rain!