From lip to lip; the younger folks
Down the loose snow-banks, wrestling, rolled,
Then toiled again the cavalcade
O’er windy hill, through clogged ravine,
And woodland paths that wound between
Low drooping pine-boughs winter-weighed.
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From every barn a team afoot, At every house a new recruit, Where, drawn by Nature’s subtlest law, Haply the watchful young men saw | |
Sweet doorway pictures of the curls
And curious eyes of merry girls,
