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Poems and Songs of Robert Burns
on mrs. riddell's birthday 4th november 1793. old winter, with his frosty beard, thus once to jove his prayer preferred: “what have i done of all the year, to bear this hated doom severe? my cheerless suns no pleasure know; night's horrid car drags, dreary slow; my dismal months no joys are crowning, but spleeny english hanging, drowning. “now jove, for once be mighty civil. to counterbalance all this evil; give me, and i've no more to say, give me maria's natal day! that brilliant gift shall so enrich me, spring, summer, autumn, cannot match me.” “'tis done!” says jove; so ends my story, and winter once rejoiced in glory.M.hZGJJx.Com