Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HILLS, by THOMAS SAMUEL JONES JR.



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THE HILLS, by            
First Line: Through the twilight faint winds will ever waken
Last Line: Out of the twilight.
Subject(s): Winter


Through the twilight faint winds will ever waken
Ghostly trees adream in the frosty silence,
And the last red streaks of the winter sunset
Fade into ashes.

White above the lake and the leafless willows,
Cold and silver starglow, the full moon risen;
White the air will grow with a fleece of snowflakes
Silently falling.

This pale dream of lonely and haunted beauty
Evermore will come in the dusk of winter
From the hills of youth, as a ghost unbidden
Out of the twilight.





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