Sonnet XLIII
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There comes to me, from a far-off land,
A chill that is the wind
Across the land of a summer day,
When I look around and see
The earth suspended in soft light
And the colors are bright,
The woods are green and full,
And I hear the sound of the stream
That flows with murmurs low,
And the flowers in bloom,
I cannot bear to think of you and the snow
As you turn away.

• Edna St Vincent Millay