Page:Tiny folk of wintry days.djvu/25



I met a little Swedish child,

And deep and thoughtful were her eyes;

My willing fancy she beguiled

With many a legend strange and wild.

She told of witching water-sprites,

Of nimble dwarfs and giants grim,

Of dancers 'mid the Northern Lights

That wave their banners o'er the heights.

She sang me may a cunning rhyme,

Then up she rose in haste, and cried,

"I must be gone the church-bells chime,

I'll tell the rest another time!"

—EDITH M. THOMAS.