Winter--

Don't you love the winter,
Sprightly time of ice and snow,
When the lakes are always frozen,
And the north winds briskly blow?
For 'tis then that sports are lively,
And you have the best of fun,
When the kiddies' cheery laughter tells you
Sledding time's begun.

There's a maiden holding madly to her hat.
Her frown's not sweet.
And a fat man tripping gently down
The frozen, slippery street.
There's an urchin just behind him
Grinning wickedly at all.
So he hopes, not without reason,
That the gentleman will fall.

When at evening all are gathered round
The hearth fire's ruddy glow,
And the walnut logs are sizzling,
And the fire is popping low.
Comes the thought that of the seasons
Winter, summer, spring or fall,
Hardy, sturdy, grim old winter
Is the finest of them all.