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| Jack Frost
The door was shut, as doors should be, Before you went to bed last night, Yet, Jack Frost has got in, you see, And left your window silver white. He must have waited till you slipt, And not a single word he spoke, But penciled over the panes and crept Away again before you woke. And now you cannot see the hills Nor fields that stretch beyond the lane, But there are fairer things than these His fingers traced on every pane. 本游戏版权归作者所有，如果无意中侵犯了您的版权，请来信告知，本站将再3个工作日内删除。 |
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