("In the Spring a young man's fancy ...")
At it, old warrior! do your worst!
Here's Fevrier coming, moist and blowy,
And any trench you leave for him
Not saturated to the brim
He will accommodate its thirst
As in the days of Noë.
But we, well-armed in every pore
Against the tricks you mean to try on,
Will stick it out through slush and slime,