Harriet Annie Wilkins

Victor Roy Victor's Soliloquy. Heavily rolleth the wintry clouds,  And the ceaseless snow is falling, falling,As the frost king's troops in their icy shrouds,  Whistle and howl, like lost spirits calling. But a warm luxuriantly furnished room,  Is an antidote to the wild night storm,Lamplight and firelight banish the gloom,  No poverty stalks there with cold gaunt form. Yet there... more...