120 



WINTER STORIES AND POEMS 



The blue woodlouse and the plump 



dormouse. 

 And the bees are stilled, and the 



flies are killed, 

 And you bite far into the heart of 



the house, 

 But not into mine. 



Bite, frost, bite ! 



The woods are all the searer, 



The fuel is all the dearer, 



The fires are all the clearer, 



My spring is all the nearer, 



You have bitten into the heart of the earth, 



But not into mine. 



TENNYSON. 



