That I of doubted danger had no fear:
I went the wasteful woods and forest wide,
Withouten dread of wolves to be espied.
"I wont to range amid the mazy thicket,
And gather nuts to make my Christmas-game,
And joyed oft to chase the trembling pricket,
Or hunt the heartless hare till she were tame.
What recked I of wintry age's waste?—
Then deemed I my spring would ever last.
"How often have I scaled the craggy oak,