And the sweet flowers were gone, new pleasures came.
The smooth and polished ice, the hard, white snow,
Sparkling in the bright beams of the clear sun,
Afforded sport for many a winter day.
But when, at evening, the gay, cheerful fire
Called us around it by its kindly warmth,
When dear relations and loved friends were met,
Encircling its clear blaze, then was the hour
Most coveted, the hour when harmless mirth,
Improving converse and the merry glee