Come, come, thou bleak December Wind, And blow the dry Leaves from the Tree! Flash, like a Love-thought, thro' me, Death And take a Life, that wearies me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RAZOR-SELLER by JOHN WOLCOTT TODAY by MARY FRANCES MARSHALL BUTTS FREIGHTIN' by CHARLES BADGER CLARK JR. POSTHUMOUS TALES: TALE 3. EQUAL MARRIAGE by GEORGE CRABBE THE BOROUGH: LETTER 1. GENERAL DESCRIPTION [OR INTRODUCTION] by GEORGE CRABBE |