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. The Newer Vainglory
2. To the Body
3. “Everlasting Farewells”
4. The Threshing Machine
5. To Antiquity

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