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You naked trees, whose shady leaues are lost, Wherein the byrds were wont to build their bowre: And now are clothd with mosse and hoary frost, Instede of bloosmes, wherewith your buds did flowre: I see your teares, that from your boughes doe raine, Whose drops in drery ysicles remaine.

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This quote is linked to the event -€“ Winter

Source Notes: "Januarye," The Shepheardes Calendar (1579).

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Edmund Spenser

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