94 November. 
Now no plumed throng 
Charms the wood with song ; 
Ice-bound trees are glittering ; 
Merry snow-birds, twittering, 
Fondly strive to cheer 
Scenes so cold and drear. 
Winter, still I see 
Many charms in thee ! 
Love thy chilly greeting, 
Snow-storms fiercely beating, 
And the dear delights 
Of the long, long nights. 
Ludwig Holty. 
WINTER. 
When icicles hang by the wall, 
And Dick, the shepherd, blows his nail, 
And Tom bears logs into the hall, 
And milk comes frozen home in pail; 
When blood is nipp'd, and ways be foul, 
Then nightly sings the staring owl, 
“Tu-whit ! 
“Tu-who ! ” a merry note, 
While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. 
When all aloud the wind doth blow, 
And coughing drowns the parson’s saw, 
And birds sit brooding in the snow, 
And Marian's nose looks red and raw ; 
