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Winter Child
Never mind now, I am delighted,
my happiness is complete --
the individual human now recedes
with his motley moderations
on moderate little earth
these days of October,
November, December, when
the mother darkness and cold
come back and the father light
wheels low, aslant, unconcernedly
withdrawn into remoteness,
in the extravagance
he blazes with, and we
come back into the mineral
sleep (a little way) from which
rousing so keenly
in the cold
we see and hear nothing
but the Heart's red fi res in the dark, in
the end Silences
where reign the archaic King
and his Queen, that was
before him, in the Beginning.