| The night-breeze chill blew cold across the mere,|
The sullen mist, slow-creeping up the dale,
Enshrouded all the land with clammy veil,
The clouds stood still, the trees bent low with fear.
At last, far in the eastern heavens drear,
A little stranger ray, trembling and pale,
Afeared lest he to find his . . .
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