Every winter,
When the great sun has turned his face away,
The earth goes down into a vale of grief,
And fasts, and weeps, and shrouds herself in sables,
Leaving her wedding-garlands to decay--
Then leaps in spring to his returning kisses.
--Charles Kingsley
Saint's Tragedy (act III, sc. 1)
1 day ago
2 comments:
Please, please, please, don't let it snow tomorrow.
X2