Poems from the works of Charles Cotton; newly decorated by Claud Lovat Fraser . 43. Oh! now I know them Let us home:Our Mortal Enemy is come,Winter and all his blustring trainHave made a voyage oer the Main. Vanisht the Countrys of the Sun,The Fugitive is hither ravish from our fruitful FieldsAll that the teeming Season Yields. Like an Invader, not a Guest,He comes to Riot, not to Feast;And in wild fury overthrowsWhatever does his march oppose. With bleak and with congealing Winds,The Earth in shining Chains he binds;And still as he doth farther pass,Quarries his way with Liquid Glass.

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Poems from the works of Charles Cotton; newly decorated by Claud Lovat Fraser . 43. Oh! now I know them Let us home:Our Mortal Enemy is come,Winter and all his blustring trainHave made a voyage oer the Main. Vanisht the Countrys of the Sun,The Fugitive is hither ravish from our fruitful FieldsAll that the teeming Season Yields. Like an Invader, not a Guest,He comes to Riot, not to Feast;And in wild fury overthrowsWhatever does his march oppose. With bleak and with congealing Winds,The Earth in shining Chains he binds;And still as he doth farther pass,Quarries his way with Liquid Glass. Hark ! how the Blusterors of the Bear,Their Gibbouse Cheeks in Triumph tear,And with continued Shouts do ringThe entry of their Palsyd King.

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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookidcu3192401317, bookyear1922