Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz
I think the Hemlock likes to stand
Upon a Marge of Snow -
It suits his own Austerity -
And satisfies an awe
That men, must slake in Wilderness -
And in the Desert - cloy -
An hunger for the Hoar, the Bald -
Lapland's - necessity -

The Hemlock's nature thrives - on cold -
The Gnash of Northern winds
Is sweetest nutriment - to him -
His best Norwegian Wines -

To satin Races - he is nought -
But Children on the Don,
Beneath his Tabernacles, play,
And Dnieper Wrestlers, run.

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    Scritta da: Silvana Stremiz

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