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Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.
Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love.
It snowed and snowed, the whole world over,
Snow swept the world from end to end.
A read more
It snowed and snowed, the whole world over,
Snow swept the world from end to end.
A candle burned on the table;
A candle burned.
Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm,
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how read more
Winter is icumen in,
Lhude sing Goddamm,
Raineth drop and staineth slop,
And how the wind doth ramm!
Sing: Goddamm.
Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.
Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.
Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and read more
Sometimes our fate resembles a fruit tree in winter. Who would think that those branches would turn green again and blossom, but we hope it, we know it.
In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water read more
In the bleak midwinter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter,
Long ago.
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems read more
Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
And veils the farmhouse at the garden's end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm.
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of read more
There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons--
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes--
The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in
winter; the fleshy, in summer. I read more
The tendinous part of the mind, so to speak, is more developed in
winter; the fleshy, in summer. I should say winter had given the
bone and sinew to literature, summer the tissues and the blood.