by Edna St. Vincent Millay
My heart is what it was before,
A house where people come and go
But it is winter with your love,
The sashes are beset with snow.
I light the lamp and lay the cloth,
I blow the coals to blaze again
But it is winter with your love
The frost is thick upon the pane
I know a winter when it comes
The leaves are listless on the boughs;
I watched your love a little while
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Alms
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