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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.