Howling through the leafless trees,
Winter calls his northern breeze.
Do no flow'rets dare appear,
In this season of the year?
Yes, amidst the wintry scene,
The daisy's lowly gem is seen;
And tho' it boasts no varied dyes,
The Christmas-rose a charm supplies.
Then through the frost and through the snow,
In a merry group we'll go,
Take our sledges and our skates,
Winter ne'er for sluggards waits.
We'll throw the snow-balls far and wide,
Beneath the mountain's hoary side;
Or build a giant tall and strong,
With shoulders broad, and limbs as long,
As Gog and Magog in Guildhall;
There it shall tower above us all,
Till sun and thaw shall melt its crown,
And bring its snowy honours down.
And when the dark'ning evening's come,
Fast away we'll scamper home,
And standing close around the fire,
The blazing faggots we'll admire,
And sip our milk, and work and read,
Till nurse cries out, "To bed! to bed!"