Allowing me to let your picture form and wake
He terrifies the Vast, he seems so wild;
Allowing me to let your picture form and wake
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
Where, as I discover as I go through
VIII. Russia: The Great Northern Expedition
Allowing me to let your picture form and wake
How can they get the point of how a world
In realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasse
Beneath the snowflakes I notice façades
The mortal architect had brought to life,
Wind, sleet. The branches sway,
That rings, with faithful tongue, its pious note
wonders if she'd ever be brave enough
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
Where, as I discover as I go through
For any part of them we can make out
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
He terrifies the Vast, he seems so wild;
Allowing me to let your picture form and wake
Pallid waste where no radiant fathomers,
Where, as I discover as I go through
VIII. Russia: The Great Northern Expedition
Allowing me to let your picture form and wake
How can they get the point of how a world
In realms of dingy gloom and deep crevasse
Beneath the snowflakes I notice façades
The mortal architect had brought to life,
Wind, sleet. The branches sway,
That rings, with faithful tongue, its pious note
wonders if she'd ever be brave enough
Clear-voiced despite its years, strong, eloquent—
Archangel Winter, darkness on his back
Where, as I discover as I go through
For any part of them we can make out
And melt the spirit; his mouth will distend
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