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Twenty-Five Days of December -- Day Twenty-Three

A poem for the day.   A tale begun in other days, When summer suns were glowing –- A simple chime, that served to time The rhythm of our rowing –- Whose echoes live in memory yet, Though envious years would say ‘forget’. Come, hearken then, ere voice of dread, With bitter tidings laden, Shall summon to unwelcome bed A melancholy maiden! We are but older children, dear, Who fret to find our bedtime near. Without, the frost, the blinding snow, The storm-wi
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