By gloomy twilight half reveal’d,

With sighs we view the hoary hill,

The leafless wood, the naked field,

The snow topt cot, the frozen rill.

No musick warbles thro’ the grove,

No vivid colours paint the plain;

No more with devious steps I rove

Thro’ verdant paths now sought in vain.

Aloud the driving tempest roars,

Congeal’d, impetuous showers descend;