William Cowper

O Winter! ruler of the inverted year,
. . . .
I crown thee king of intimate read more

O Winter! ruler of the inverted year,
. . . .
I crown thee king of intimate delights,
Fireside enjoyments, home-born happiness,
And all the comforts that the lowly roof
Of undisturb'd Retirement, and the hours
Of long uninterrupted evening, know.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the lands where sorrow is unknown.

The path of sorrow, and that path alone,
Leads to the lands where sorrow is unknown.

Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.

Who loves a garden loves a greenhouse too.

Defend me, therefore, common sense, say
From reveries so airy, from the toil
Of dropping buckets into read more

Defend me, therefore, common sense, say
From reveries so airy, from the toil
Of dropping buckets into empty wells,
And growing old in drawing nothing up.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.

There is in souls a sympathy with sounds.