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Landward the breakers roll and run,
The gray-white ospreys near and flee,
Beneath the long slant winter sun
Beside the winter sea.

 

With chilly gleam the shingle shines;
The sand with icy umber glows;
Back from the beach the stunted pines
Stand somber in the snows.

 

The horizon shows a steely glint,--
A line of pickets white patrolled;
The empty zenith holds the hint
Of cruelty and cold.

 

The north-wind clarions; 'tis a dirge,
A requiem, a threnody,
Keyed to the sad sound of the surge
Beside the winter sea.