Sky wild with error and moaning on the wooded hills,
Vapors of the expiring earth dwarfing the acts of men
Stopped in the sucking mud of their stripped fields
Awed in the cannonades of wind that shake their bones
Exiled now from the sun and driven to their cellarholes
By blasts of ice and the black roar that builds behind the ridge,
Reduced to fear and faith in the strength of their minds.
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