Cold Winter is coming, and soon shall we see
On the panes, by that genius Jack Frost,
Fine drawings of mountain, stream, tower, an tree—
Framed and glazed too, without any cost.
Cold Winter is coming—-ye delicate fair,
Take care when your hyson you sip;—
Drink it quick, and don't talk, lest he come unaware,
And turn it to ice on your lip.
Cold Winter is coming—I charge you again—
Muffle warm—of the tyrant beware—