And a tall bright lodge of the betula bark
That glittered in the sun.
He lived on the very highest top,
For he was a hunter free,
Where he could spy on the clearest day,
Gleams of the distant sea.
Come out—come out! cried the youngest one,
Let us off to look at the sea,
And out they ran in their gayest robes,
And skipped and ran with glee.