Hard of heart, winter has frozen the fields. Cold of heart, winter has stopped the streams. Bleak of heart, it blights the last leaf-blade. Bare of heart, it numbs the earth of dreams. Crows blow by -- like black chaff on the wind. Suns sink down to rise on colder dawns. Frosty stars cover the nights so chill One dares not even think of lambs or fawns. |