SPRING ON THE EAST SIDE.

SPRING ON THE EAST SIDE.
349.8

When the wind walls round frosty eaves
Like some unhappy soul that grieves- When snowflakes fall and fields lle deep
Beneath white counterpanes asleep- What mirth around the fire prevails
When the wind walls.

One dear blond head and one of brown
Against my knce are nestled down,
While dancing shade and filekering flame
Play through the dusk an elfin gume.
And shimmering fairy lights are shed
On each dear bead.

Too brief this hour, when childhood’s loro
Is woven in wondrous webs once more.
And all sweet hearthside spirits bring
Of happy thoughts their offering:
No storms that cry, no clouds that lower,
Can mar this hour!
-Elizabeth R. MacDonald