Over the chilly dale.XVIII. The Northeast and Northwest Passageswill be penciled on the
coffeeshop menus.High on this surface, guarding the edge of PèreUpon from the
right by far trees, that white place
With sun's warmth wasted on a stone,To a higher level of appearance.Event, the end of
the painted road ends upIn Winter Haven, the ballplayers are stretchingAnd still my mind
goes groping in the mud to bring�The place the road ends, that patch of white paintto
restaurants for Early Bird Specials.And the wide arrowhead the road itself
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