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Harlequin
THE world lay brown and barren at the closing of the year, Where the rushes shook and shuddered on the borders of
the mere, And the troubled tide ran shoreward, where the estuaries
twined Through the wide and empty marsh toward the sullen hills
behind : And the smoke-engirdled city sulked beneath the leaden
skies, With the rain-tears slowly sliding from her million window
eyes, And the fog-ghost limped and lingered past the buildings
clad in grime,
Till the Frost King gave the signal for the Christmas panto- mime!
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