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THE LITTLE MOUNTAINEER.
She stands beside the ancient well
That from the broken wall
Sings day and night the same sweet song
In one low silvery fall.
She stands a lovely, lonely child
Without a thought of fear;
The cave of nature is around
The little mountaineer.
A pensiveness beyond its years
Is in her childish grace;
For many lonely hours have given
Their meaning to her face.
The mighty storms, the mighty hills,
Have lent their solemn cheer;
A poet's world is in her heart—
The little mountaineer.
