All stretched by seven poplar-trees against the sun's bright face.
She looks to left, she looks to right, and in the midst she sees
A little well of water clear and frozen 'neath the trees;
Then down beside its margent in the crusty snow she kneels,
And hears a magic belfry a-ringing with sweet bells.
But when the belfry ceased to sound yet nothing could she see,
Save only frozen water in the shadow of the tree.
But presently she lifted up her eyes along the snow,
And sees a witch in brindled shawl a-frisking to and fro.
Her shoes were buckled scarlet that capered to and fro,