I must feel warm to be a friend of his.

• • • • •

"How many brave adventures with the cold,

Built up the cumberous cellar of plain stone;

How many summer heats the bricks did mould,

That make the ample fireplace, and the tone

Of twice a thousand winds sing through the zone

Of rustic paling round the modest yard,—

These are the verses of this simple bard.

"Who sings the praise of Woman in our clime?