IN A TRAIN.

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A lonesome landscape, brown and grey,
And chilled with flakes of smutchy snow,
So grimly dull that every ray
Of setting sun forgets its glow;
But in the train I sit with one.
Who clears my thoughts of wintry gloom;
She laughs!—and now a midday sun
Is coaxing summer flowers to bloom!

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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