The New Hampshire Gazette

On WINTER.

Now gloomy winter shews his hoary head,
And nature's face is with confusion spread;
Stern Boreas rambles forth with blust'ring sweep,
T' explore the continent, and storm the deep:
Awhile he ranges with despotic sway.
Till vanquish'd by the genial lamp of day.
The forest now appears with rueful mien,
The groves display a like ungrateful scene:
No cheerful verdure beautifies the field,
Nor can the vales their wonted odours yield:
The open lawns, with each desolated plain,
No semblance of their former bloom retain.
Now humid vapours, fogs and mists arise,
Which choke the air, and shade th' enveloped skies;
Impetuous rains in ample streams descend,
And various meteors in the aether blend:
The rapid floods, which from the mountains pour,
With voice like thunder thro' the valleys roar:
Whilst echo does the noisy din provoke,
And joins the discord from each vocal rock.
The silver ponds now shine in glittering mail,
And frozen clouds discharge the pattering hail;
A coverlet of fleecy snow o'erspreads
The towering hills, and clothes the naked meads.
No warblers now chant forth their prightly strains,
Nor with soft notes divert the list'ning swains;
No pleasing object entertains the sight;
Nor rural walks nor sylvan shades invite:
No more we trace the mazes of the grove,
Tho' once our calm retreat, and seat of love;
But now, with brisk wood-fire and nut brown ale:
In friendly social mirth, ourselves regale.