idea of
the
comforts
of
midwinter
Now trees
their
leafy hats
do bare To
reverence
Winter’s
silver
hair; A
handsome
hostess,
merry
host, A
pot of ale
now and a
toast,
Tobacco
and a good
coal fire,
Are things
this
season
doth
require. I
had not
been long
at the inn
when a
post
chaise
drove up
to the
door. A
young
gentleman
stepped
out, and
by the
light of
the lamps
I caught a
glimpse of
a
countenance
which I
thought I