Behold! the cable stiff with frozen air
Cannot be bent: death rides upon the wave,
And stares with beamless eye, and shakes his icy glaive!
When summer came, no sunbeam cheer’d the vale;
Like slave, the wretched swain must groan and sweat:
His house, his tools, his clothing he must sell;
His only thoughts were rye, and oats, and wheat:
He had forgotten quite to bend the knee
In humble duty fore Alfader’s throne:
His horse was far more dignified than he;