“The
wrathful winter, 'proaching on apace,
With blustering blasts had all ybar'd the
treen,
And
old Saturnus, with his frosty face,
With chilling cold had pierc'd the tender
green;
The
mantles rent, wherein enwrapped been
The gladsome groves that now lay
overthrown,
The tapets torn, and every bloom
down blown.”— Thomas Sackville, Earl of Dorset (1536-1608), “The Mirror for Magistrates: The Induction”
(1563)
(The image accompanying this post was the view outside my door this morning, as the tristate area felt winter's first "blustering blast," as Sackville calls it.)
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