A FAIRY TALE
Now this is the story of Olaf
Who ages and ages ago
Lived right on the top of a mountain,
A mountain all covered with snow.
Who ages and ages ago
Lived right on the top of a mountain,
A mountain all covered with snow.
And he was quite pretty and tiny
With beautiful curling fair hair
And small hands like delicate flowers—
Cheeks kissed by the cold mountain air.
With beautiful curling fair hair
And small hands like delicate flowers—
Cheeks kissed by the cold mountain air.
He lived in a hut made of pinewood
Just one little room and a door
A table, a chair, and a bedstead
And animal skins on the floor.
Just one little room and a door
A table, a chair, and a bedstead
And animal skins on the floor.
Now Olaf was partly a fairy
And so never wanted to eat
He thought dewdrops and raindrops were plenty
And snowflakes and all perfumes sweet,
And so never wanted to eat
He thought dewdrops and raindrops were plenty
And snowflakes and all perfumes sweet,
In the daytime when sweeping and dusting
And cleaning were quite at an end,
He would sit very still on the doorstep
And dream—Oh, that he had a friend!
And cleaning were quite at an end,
He would sit very still on the doorstep
And dream—Oh, that he had a friend!
Somebody to come when he called them,
Somebody to catch by the hand,
Somebody to sleep with at night time,
Somebody who'd quite understand.
Somebody to catch by the hand,
Somebody to sleep with at night time,
Somebody who'd quite understand.
One night in the middle of Winter
He lay wide awake on his bed,
Outside there was fury of tempest
And calling of wolves to be fed—
He lay wide awake on his bed,
Outside there was fury of tempest
And calling of wolves to be fed—
Thin wolves, grey and silent as shadows;
And Olaf was frightened to death.
He had peeped through a crack in the doorpost,
He had seen the white smoke of their breath.
And Olaf was frightened to death.
He had peeped through a crack in the doorpost,
He had seen the white smoke of their breath.
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