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Old Song

Rating: 2.7

TIS a dull sight
   To see the year dying,
When winter winds
   Set the yellow wood sighing:
   Sighing, O sighing!

When such a time cometh
   I do retire
Into an old room
   Beside a bright fire:

   O, pile a bright fire!
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
S Imam 27 July 2006

A form of human hibernation.

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