Oh, the winter! My dearest season.
Why do I love you without any reason?
Oft, you seem a terrible curse
Calm is your morn, peace is your dusk.
Mystery is your fog, your colour is pale
Still my nights fill with dreamy tales.
Our nights are sweet I did think
I don’t know how the changes ring,
I think; they, having no name
Are you so kind and good to them?
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