321. A CHARADE
When winter comes with frost and cold,
My first is welcome, as of old;
And though its grip may make you thinner,
It helps to cook your Christmas dinner.
Let me but hear my next rejoice
At early dawn with cheerful voice,
I haste to find, with eager pleasure,
Some specimen of hidden treasure.
A traveller my whole may find
Far from his English kith and kind;
Though some at home, to England’s shame,
Are this in fact, if not in name.
322.
It was to-morrow, and
It will be yesterday;
Now it is near at hand
What is it? Who can say?