Close to his face the screening hood he drew.
He knocked first at a cottage of the poor,
And lo! flew open wide the door—
“We have not much to give, dear fool,” they said,
“But thou art cold; come share our fire and bread!”
With willing hands they freed his cape from snow
And warmed and cheered him ere they let him go.
And so’t was ever: By the firelight dim
Of many a hearth stone poor they welcomed him;
And children who would shun the king in awe,