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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=454853" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Frost Song</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=454853" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">HERE where the bee slept and the orchis lifted<br>Her honeying pipes of pearl, her velvet lip,<br>Only the swart leaves of the oak lie drifted<br>In sombre fellowship.<br>Here where the flame-weed set the lands alight,<br>Lies the bleak upland, webbed and crowned with white. </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=454853" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Build high the logs, O love, and in thine eyes<br>Let me believe the summer lingers late.<br>We shall not miss her passive pageantries,<br>We are not desolate,<br>When on the sill, across the window bars,<br>Kind winter flings her flowers and her stars.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Marjorie+Lowry+Christie+Pickthall">Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall</a></strong></div>

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