Wednesday, January 1, 2014



Snow-Bound
"The sun that brief December day rose cheerless over hills of gray,  And, darkly circled, gave at noon a sadder light than waning moon.  Slow tracing down the thickening sky, It's mute and ominous prophecy, A portent seemingly less than threat, it sank from sight before it set."    (John Greenleaf Whittier)

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