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61) Scatter

  The gentle snows are falling now;

  Down from the petal-clouded sky

  Of mistral-rustled branch and stalk

  In shimmering white whorls they fly.

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  The earth, untempered, fierce and wild

  Is winter-hued, those fragments bright:

  And from the heavens, glimmer down

  the petals now like shards of light.

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