Winter Discontent

Since the sun's bright beams are bent
Toward the time of chilly days,
And in grief and discontent
Little birds have hushed their lays,
Sad at heart I make lament,
For on us will soon be sent
Winter, who his might displays
On the blossoms once so bright.
Dull and duller
Grows their colour.
I feel at that sight
Dole and no delight!