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Quote, December 6, 2010

ejmoore510
13 years ago

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!

A Winter Dawn by Lucy Maud Montgomery

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