Lucy Maud Montgomery (Люси Мод Монтгомери)

A Winter Dawn

Above the marge of night a star still shines, 
And on the frosty hills the sombre pines 
Harbor an eerie wind that crooneth low 
Over the glimmering wastes of virgin snow. 

Through the pale arch of orient the morn
Comes in a milk-white splendor newly-born,
A sword of crimson cuts in twain the gray
Banners of shadow hosts, and lo, the day!

1. In the Days of the Golden Rod
2. While the Fates Sleep
3. The Voyagers
4. Midnight in Camp
5. At the Long Sault

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Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1773

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