These desolate walls never knew,
Never heard the trim marker’s “Love-all,”
Or rejoice at the sight of a cue!
But the cattle are safe in their shed,
My hunters are wrapped in repose;
Even here is that luxury—bed—
Where I may forget all my woes!
It may thaw! I will hope for the best,
And the chance of a thaw, and some sport
Gives e’en to tough mutton a zest,