Winter anon, earth’s holiday; and then
To rouse the wild boar in his fenny den:
Sport dear to youth’s blood racing fast and pure,
Content with simple joys, trained to endure.
Nor at one season, but throughout the year,
Be sure the Gods fail not of love and fear:
While no chimney corner but makes a shrine
Where to tend a grandsire all but divine.
If Justice has not yet forsaken Earth,
’Tis that she lingers on some cottage hearth!