Winter

The cold may burn us sadly
Like fire, and mortals hurry
Amidst the snowdrift madly,
With still-increasing flurry.

O winter stern and chilly,
When frozen are our noses,
And piano-strumming silly
Our ears so discomposes!

I like the summer only
When in the wood I’m roving
With my own griefs all-lonely,
And scanning verses loving.