Faerie Paths — Icicles

Oh! where do fairies hide their heads
When snow lies on the hills,
When frost has spoil’d their mossy beds,
And crystalliz’d their rills?
Beneath the moon they cannot trip
In circles o’er the plain;
And draughts of dew they cannot sip
Till green leaves come again.
~Thomas Haynes Bayly

 

 

 

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