Die down, O dismal day, and let me live; And come, blue deeps, magnificently strewn With colored clouds,—large, light, and fugitive,— By upper winds through pompous motions blown. Now it is death in life,—a vapor dense Creeps round my window, till I cannot see The far snow-shining mountains, and the glens Shagging the mountain-tops. O God! make free This barren shackled earth, so deadly cold,— Breathe gently forth thy spring, till winter flies In rude amazement, fearful and yet bold, While she performs her customed charities; I weigh the loaded hours till life is bare,— O God, for one clear day, a snowdrop, and sweet air!
“Die down, O dismal day”
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