Midwinter spring is its own season
Sempiternal though sodden towards sundown,
Suspended in time, between pole and tropic.
When the short day is brightest, with frost and fire,
The brief sun flames the ice, on pond and ditches,
In windless cold that is the heart's heat
“Little Gidding,” the last of T.S. Eliot’s magnificent Four Quartets, was first drafted in t…
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