The Little Matchstick Girl

So she lights another match, but soon the spark is gone

so she lights another match and lives on.

And she sees a stove of brass.

How warm its fire burns!

But the match goes out.

Alas, cold returns.

So she lights another flame

and sees a table strewn with dried fruit and meat and game, bright as noon.

Then, more splendid to behold, the goose hops from the plate and walks forth--

and then it's cold, dark, and late.

And another tiny light...

She sees a Christmas tree all lit up with colors bright and pretty.

Then the Christmas lights rise higher.

"A falling star!" she sighs.

Then there is no other fire, and she dies.