A Ballad of Winter - An 1827 Poem
By Boston Bard.
- Loud blows the winds, with blustering breath,
- And snows fall cold upon the heath,
- And hill and vale look drear :
- The torrents foam with headlong roar,
- And trees their chilly load deplore,
- And drop the icy tear.
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- The little birds with wishful eye
- For alms unto my cottage fly,
- Since they can boast no hoard;
- Sharp in mine house the pilgrims peep,
- But Robin will not distance keep,
- So percheth on my board.
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- Come in ye little minstrels sweet,
- And from your feathers shake the sleet,
- And warm your freezing blood :
- No cat shall touch a single plume,
- Come in sweet choir nay fill my room,
- And take of grain a treat;
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- Then flicker gay about my beams
- And hop and do what pleasant seems,
- And be a joyful throng,
- 'Till spring may clothe the naked grove;
- Then go and build your nests and love,
- And thank me with a song.
January 17, 1827. Norwich Courier 5(42): 4.