And naught but frequent S and B
Gives my perspiring soul relief.
No veil of snow enwraps the lea,
And as for skating in the Park,
Or sledging, one as well might be
On Ararat in Noahs ark.
Where is the icy blast, and where
The white hoar frost, and driving sleet?
At night I suffocate and swear
With nothing on me but a sheet.