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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.

      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!