The First Snow-Fall
The Fir-tree felt it with a thrill
And murmur of content;
The last dead Leaf its cable slipt
And from its moorings went;
The selfsame silent messenger
To one the shibboleth
Of Life imparting, and to one
The countersign of Death.
And murmur of content;
The last dead Leaf its cable slipt
And from its moorings went;
The selfsame silent messenger
To one the shibboleth
Of Life imparting, and to one
The countersign of Death.
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