<h2 id="id00313" style="margin-top: 4em">THE SHEPHERD WIND</h2>
<p id="id00314">When hills and plains are powdered white,<br/>
And bitter cold the north wind blows,<br/>
Upon my window in the night<br/>
A fairy-garden grows.<br/></p>
<p id="id00315">Here poppies that no hand hath sown<br/>
Bloom white as foam upon the sea,<br/>
And elfin bells to earth unknown<br/>
Hold frost-bound melody.<br/></p>
<p id="id00316">And here are blossoms like to stars<br/>
Tangled in nets of silver lace—<br/>
My very breath their beauty mars,<br/>
Or stirs them from their place.<br/></p>
<p id="id00317">Perchance the echoes of old songs<br/>
Found here a resting place at last<br/>
With drifting perfume that belongs<br/>
To roses of the past.<br/></p>
<p id="id00318">Or all the moonbeams that were lost<br/>
On summer nights the world forgets<br/>
May here be prisoned by the frost<br/>
With souls of violets.<br/></p>
<p id="id00319">The wind doth shepherd many things—<br/>
And when the nights are long and cold,<br/>
Who knows how strange a flock he brings<br/>
All safely to the fold.<br/></p>
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