LIKE a careless child in the drifts it stood Against the darkness of the wood,
Even the path was not cut through
Up to the door it led you to.
Beauty untarnished, but never a sound
Save for the whispering trees around.
Its shining eyes on the cold world shone
Warm and bright from its snowy comb.
Cheer was the word the blue fume wrote
As it cleared itself from the chimney’s thro............