Great waters freeze that he may travel faster—
He puts a girdle round about the earth!
Just now in the dim North, as he remembers
His birthday back through centuries, he appears
A trifle sad, and looks into the embers—
Then shakes down from his cheek a shower of
tears.
He thinks of little hands that reached out lightly
To catch his beard and pull it with a will,
Now round their buried rosebuds folded whitely,