To Claud Schuster

Winter is at the door, Winter! Winter! Winter is at the door: For all along the worn oak floor Waver the carpets; and before The once warm southern orchard wall, The last October peaches fall; In vain behind their fellows all Belated.

Winter is come apace, Winter! Winter! Winter is come apace. The fireside is the cheeriest place, To wear unfeigned a merry face: While music tells, though now 'tis chill, How merle, and maid, and mavis, will, When spring comes dancing down the hill, Be mated.