The frousy foster of a female hand;
Of name Laconian, from a barb’rous land;
Though rude, yet welcome to December’s snow,
To thee we bid the homely stranger go:
That into glowing limbs no cold may glide,
That baleful Iris never drench thy pride:
This fence shall bid thee scorn the winds and showers;
The Tyrian lawn pretends no equal powers.
Elphinston’s Translation.