Guest
Thank you Edgar, your help is invaluable. Maple you my barely, maple my benumbed, Why are you standing, stooping to the blizzard whitely? Have you noticed something? Have you heard a sound? As though, outside a village, for a walk your'e out. Like a drunken lookout, being on a beat, Who sank down in a snow bank, got a foot frostbitten. Ah, today, I'm also, somehow, quite unstable, Can't get to my dwelling from a friendly revel: Yon, came on a willow, yon, picked out a pine, And sang them, under blizzard, songs about summer. To myself, I looked just like this very maple, Only not a bare one, - verdant, in high fettle. And, ignoring bearing, getting crazed flat out, I caught to heart a birch tree, like another's spouse.
