We Have Survived Three Months of Rain

We have survived three months of rain,
O come and bring the sun again;
Your Rosebud, tho' she treads on air,
Is only yet the morning star;
Old January's nineteenth day
To me is like the first of May.
I drink your health . . but Time, alas!
Holds over mine another glass,
In which no liquid rubies shine,
But whose dry sand drains all the wine:
Fain would I turn it upside down,
It will not do . . I fear his frown;
Tho' on the whole (now come and see)
He has been somewhat mild with me.