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Scene.–A wide stretch of fallow ground recently sown with wheat, and
frozen to iron hardness. Three large birds walking about thereon,
and wistfully eyeing the surface. Wind keen from north-east: sky a
dull grey.


Rook.–Throughout the field I find no grain;
   The cruel frost encrusts the cornland!
Starling.–Aye: patient pecking now is vain
   Throughout the field, I find . . .
Rook.–No grain!
Pigeon.–Nor will be, comrade, till it rain,
   Or genial thawings loose the lorn land
   Throughout the field.
Rook.–I find no grain:
   The cruel frost encrusts the cornland!

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