” … but quickly it bleaches to frost in the cold” E M

” cold is the slight wind 

and sere 
And gleaming in dim light 
and bare 
As vast as the mercy of God, 
lie the plains starlight and shade. 
and high on the ridges 
among the burnt patches, 
the seed grass is stirring 
like beckoning fingers. 
o tune grief-laden 
on the east winds pulse 
like the song of a maiden 
whose lover proves false. 
In each grass blade’s fold, 
a dew drop gleams bold, 
but quickly it bleaches 
to frost in the cold! 
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