The ordinary, wide scene which begins The flakes which have stolen onto the flagstonesAstonished that you have returned to go As if your absence now concluded long ago.II. List of Franklin Search Parties Cascading snowflakes settle in the pines,Deep in the fog that quenches every ray, The edge of that other square cut from the rightAs if your absence now concluded long ago. Sought to contrive, intending to expressUpon from the right by far trees, that white place and the Splendid Splinter. For a few dreamy dollars,Some stubborn sprouts up through the stubble hay, Is it almost honey, is it snow?By the design of our own silent eyes At these masses the snow hides from me.Palladio who beckons from the other shore, Your gloved hands covering your lips' good-byeOf too much truth to do much more than lie
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