Winter

Cold Winter brings to crown your age,
When many happy years are told,
The myrtle, savory, and sage,
The semper viva, never old;
To crown your high victorious brows
Green laurel garlands, arbute boughs,
With palms and olives, whose increase
Are emblems of your lasting peace.
Nor is cold Winter yet at all
Less frolic than the wanton Spring:
The robin redbreast in the hall
Picking up crumbs at Christmas sing;
When winds blow cold and ways be foul,
In barns and sheepcotes sits the owl,
Whose note the husbandman delights
Whenas she hoots in frosty nights.