"The sun bursts out in frequent blaze;
Shade flies, light flashes o'er the wold.
But yet in air there hangs a haze,
And what can make it blow so cold?
"The steeple cock points beak due west;
His tail the other way turns he.
Though that, meseems, is where his crest
In such a breeze as this should be.
"So cold has Christmas seldom been.
It ne'er was colder, e'en in May.
Why does the wind's edge cut so keen?
Turn, pensive shepherd, turn and say."
"Stranger, yon vaporous mountains note,
Cumuli, Alps on Alps, up there!
They're frozen clouds, aloft that float
As icebergs in the sea of air.
"Their rimy crags illumed, how fast
See how they change, and surge, and grow;
Whilst Zephyr apes an eastern blast,
Because the sky is full of snow."
"Thanks, guardian of the fleecy flock.
How rare, how pleasing, 'tis to find
'Mongst rustics reared from lowly stock
A cultured and observant mind!"
"Kind stranger, scant's the laborer's hire
In this inclement atmosphere;
And welcome — pardon the desire —
To his parched lips a draught of beer."
"Nay, shepherd, breathe not that request;
Banish strong drink from downs and plains:
Where Science wears the bumpkin's vest,
Let Temperance rule contented swains."