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An Icicle It is a glistening splendor, But not what it has been; It was a pool of water, So clear, without a sin. It was a lofty snowbank, It was a drop of rain; And once its form was that of sleet, And it broke a window pane. And not so very long ago, It was a bit of cloud; That rested in the lofty sky, And it was still quite proud; [[strikethrough]] And from this cloud it fell to earth Where it rested on our roof[[/strikethrough]] And from this cloud it fell to earth This time, in form of snow; And rested on my rooftop To hear the wind there blow. And when it melted slightly And off the roof it slid; I knew it was an icicle, And in what form it hid.