Which fringe the edge of timberline,
This miner's cabin, quaint and rude,
From the surrounding forest hewed,
With primitive, yet stable form,
Withstood the onslaught of the storm,
And at the entrance of a dell
Stood as a rustic sentinel.
Beneath a pine's protecting skirt,
It reared its modest roof of poles,
Laid close, then overlaid with dirt,