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A REFUGE FOR POETS WHO WRITE IN THE LYRIC TRADITION,

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WHEN THE SNOW AND THE FROST ARE ALL OVER

Oh summertime blooms in the Tennessee hills
With fields of wildflowers and clover;
But the wintertime beauty is mightier still,
When the snow and the frost are all over.
And sometimes the mist there can linger for days,
Sometimes by nightfall thereís frost on the way,
And early next morning the clouds clear away,
And the snow and the frost are all over.

Like feathers attached to the branches of trees
That fall to the ground with the gentlest breeze
When the sunís shining down just as big as you please,
And the snow and the frost are all over.
On the southernmost side where the frost hasnít been,
In wintertime scarcely a leaf can be seen,
But the Tennessee side it is all evergreen,
And the snow and the frost are all over.

Oh the mountain folkís wiser than anyone else,
The stone cutter and the sheep drover,
For to be there a-watching the ice as it melts,
When the snow and the frost are all over.
And summertime blooms in the Tennessee hills
With fields of wildflowers and clover;
But the wintertime beauty is mightier still,
When the snow and the frost are all over.

Schenectady, New York, 1974



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