O winter! wilt thou never, never go

O winter! wilt thou never, never go? O Summer! but I weary for thy coming; Longing once more to hear the Luggie flow, And frugal bees laboriously humming. Now, the east wind diseases the infirm, And I must crouch in corners from rough weather. Sometimes a winter sunset is a charm— When the fired clouds, compacted, blaze together, And the large sun dips, red, behind the hills. I, from my window, can behold this pleasure; And the eternal moon, what time she fills Her orb with argent, treading a soft measure, With queenly motion of a bridal mood, Through the white spaces of infinitude.