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Above the line of comfort
Below which valley people dwell,
We make a winter camp
In wild mountains I love well.
Like white-furred fox and soaring eagle
And the snowy winter hare,
We fill our souls with freedom
With each breath of crackling air.
At night we bless the campfire
For its heat and for its light,
And I wonder at your stories
Before we bundle for the night.
When summer work has claimed us,
And dreaming times are few,
The memories I'll treasure
Will be winter camp and you.
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