MYSELF, 363 
And they winked slyly at me, too, 
But never fled away, 
For in their little hearts they knew 
That I was wild as they. 
And always in the Winter, too, 
Before the breakfast time, 
I wandered o’er the crusted snow, 
To hear the waters chime. 
To see how thick the ice had grown, 
And where the hasty spray 
Its jewels o’er the shrubs had thrown 
In such a curious way. 
And in a little cavern, where 
The waters trickled through, 
The shape of every icicle 
That gemmed its sides I knew; 
For there were hermits’ huts, and towers, 
And cities grand and gay, 
And Alpine peaks and tropic flowers, 
And fairer things than they : 
For oft the sun came glinting through 
The chinks some ice lens spanned, 
And decked in many a rainbow hue 
Those scenes of fairy land. 





