And this is my castle.
Why rush on?
Look over the gate. Frost in all the shadows. There are rabbits making free in the walled garden, a dainty red squirrel, the white lawn with its blackbird hopping. Some of last year’s apples still hang on in the orchard. February. It’s nearly spring.
A long time ago men made a long alley of trees.
We princesses walk there in its pleasant shelter in all weathers.
The branches sometimes meet above our heads.