Page:Complete Works of Lewis Carroll.djvu/156

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Without, the frost, the blinding snow,  The storm-wind's moody madness—  Within, the firelight's ruddy glow,  And childhood's nest of gladness. The magic words shall hold thee fast: Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.
And, though the shadow of a sigh  May tremble through the story. For "happy summer days" gone by.  And vanish' d summer glory — It shall not touch, with breath of bale. The pleasance of our fairy-tale.

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