The north wind is blowing, and stings like a hornet,
And as to this rising as soon as day breaks,
’Tis a vile vulgar habit, and gentlemen scorn it.
“I’m none of those wretches, who labor for bread
Through foul or fair weather, whatever may hap,
I mean to enjoy both my table and bed,
So let me turn over and take t’other nap.
“I’ve money enough, and can live at my ease,
I cannot be caught in necessity’s trap,
Will sleep every day till the next, if I please,