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First Sight

 Lambs that learn to walk in snow
When their bleating clouds the air
Meet a vast unwelcome, know
Nothing but a sunless glare.
Newly stumbling to and fro All they find, outside the fold, Is a wretched width of cold.
As they wait beside the ewe, Her fleeces wetly caked, there lies Hidden round them, waiting too, Earth's immeasureable surprise.
They could not grasp it if they knew, What so soon will wake and grow Utterly unlike the snow.

Poem by Philip Larkin
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things