When the sun shone and when the roads were clean;
Not like the pilgrim, when the morning gray,
The ruddy eve succeeding, sends his way;
But in a season when the sharp east wind
Had all its influence on a nervous mind;
When past the parlour’s front it fiercely blew,
And Gwyn sat pitying every bird that flew,
This strange physician said - “Adieu! Adieu!
Farewell! - Heaven bless you! - if you should - but no,
You need not fear - farewell! ’tis time to go.”