Merrily, merrily goes the bark On a breeze from the northward free, So shoots through the morning sky the lark, Or the swan through the summer sea.
Up rose the wild old winter-king, and shook his beard of snow; "I hear the first young hare-bell ring, 'Tis time for me to go! northward o'er the icy rocks, northward o'er the sea, my daughter comes with sunny locks, This land's too warm for me!"charles godfrey leland
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