You can't get too much winter in the winter.
Out alone in the winter rain, / Intent on giving and taking pain.
Lovers, forget your love And list to the love of these She a window flower And he a winter breeze.
My long two-pointed ladder's sticking through a tree Toward heaven still, And there's a barrel that I didn't fill Beside it, and there may be two or three Apples I didn't pick upon some bough. But I am done with apple-picking now. Essence of winter sleep is on the night, The scent of apples: I am drowsing off.
But what would interest you about the brook, It's always cold in summer, warm in winter.
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