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Poem by Hamlin Garland
AND all night long we lie in sleep, Too sweet to sigh in, or to dream, Unnoting how the wild winds sweep, Or snow clouds through the darkness stream Above the trees that moan and sign And clutch with naked hands the sky. Beneath the checkered counterpane We rest the soundlier for the storm; Its wrath is only lullaby, A far off, vast and dim refrain.
Hamlin Garland's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org