Yes, but look in the fire, my child,
At the strange cities there, so bright and so wild!”
“Mother, what are those restless flames
That close by the window pass?”
“Only the firelight fairies, child,
That dance on the window-glass!
But look, how the sparks up the chimney fly,
Up, and away, to the snowy sky!”
“Oh, listen, what are those shuddering cries,—
Mother, what can they be?”