Poem by Alice Meynell

The Roaring Frost

A flock of winds came winging from the North,
Strong birds with fighting pinions driving forth
                With a resounding call:—

Where will they close their wings and cease their cries—
Between what warming seas and conquering skies—
                And fold, and fall?

1. Veni Creator
2. Unto Us a Son Is Given
3. The Newer Vainglory
4. The Unexpected Peril
5. The Threshing Machine

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