/0/6865/coverbig.jpg?v=559db87568b514a28fd76db5a4527b18)
These rugged, wintry days I scarce could bear,
Did I not know that, in the early spring,
When wild March winds upon their errands sing,
Thou wouldst return, bursting on this still air,
Like those same winds, when, startled from their lair,
They hunt up violets, and free swift brooks
From icy cares, even as thy clear looks
Bid m
COPYRIGHT(©) 2022