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Icy Wind | ||
| Gusty wind, the chilly sort, Pierces clothes and makes one quake. When the icy blasts cavort, They can act as quite a brake. Nothing can deter their force Till they've had their mighty way. They must simply run their course And in time will blow away. What, pray tell, is their intent? Do they like to be so mean? Are they calling to repent As they scrub the winter scene? | ||
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