A mild parochial talk was ours;
The air of the afternoon was sweet
With burthen of the sun-parched flowers;
His fiery beams in fury beat
From out the O of space, and made,
Wherever leaves his glare let through,
Circlets of brilliance in the sha [...]
1
"Oh! Raining! Look!" she whispered,
Gazing out
On wheat fields parched with drought,
And trees that even in prime
Of bounteous summertime
Showed yellow in their green;
But now, as in delight,
Showered down these withered leaves
A [...]
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