Edward Rowland Sill


Before Sunrise in Winter


A PURPLE cloud hangs half-way down;
  Sky, yellow gold below;
The naked trees, beyond the town,
  Like masts against it show,—

Bare masts and spars of our earth-ship,
  With shining snow-sails furled;
And through the sea of space we slip,
  That flows all round the world.






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