Ten O’clock·
Out of the Cupboard ||
The Kobold takes
Some bits of the Morning
Griddle-Cakes.
The Windows rattle, |Cold and windy.| ||
The North Wind blows,
But the Ashes are warm
Between his Toes. |K.P.|
The little grey Mouse ||
Looks out of the Wall,
And wishes he had
The Crumbs that fall.