John Bartlett (1820–1905). Familiar Quotations, 10th ed. 1919.
Seba Smith 1792-1868 John Bartlett
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The cold winds swept the mountain-height, And pathless was the dreary wild, And ’mid the cheerless hours of night A mother wandered with her child: As through the drifting snows she press’d, The babe was sleeping on her breast. |
The Snow Storm. |