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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


TO THE POET IN AUTUMN by MARGARET FRASER

First Line: NOW BE THE SHARPENED COLD
Last Line: AND THE DREAMY BLOOD; BE WINTER!

Now be the sharpened cold
That startles drowsy ground:
With words alert and bold,
Inflict a frosty wound!

Come freeze our breath to stone,
O tingling mind, and splinter
The sleep of the stolid bone
And the dreamy blood; be Winter!



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