"I leant upon a coppice gate   When Frost was spectre-gray,   And Winter's dregs made desolate   The weakening eye of day   The tangled bine-stems scored the sky   Like strings of broken lyres,   And all mankind that haunted nigh   Had sought their household fires." - Thomas Hardy

Thomas Hardy: I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray,...

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"I leant upon a coppice gate When Frost was spectre-gray, And Winter's dregs made desolate The weakening eye of day The tangled bine-stems scored the sky Like strings of broken lyres, And all mankind that haunted nigh Had sought their household fires." - Thomas Hardy

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