Winter takes aught, or spring adds more.
The cold and frozen air had sterved Much poor, if not by thee preserved, Whose prayers have made thy table blest With plenty, far above the rest. Or else the birds, fearing the snow Might to another deluge grow, The pheasant, partridge, and the lark Flew to thy house, as to the Ark. And every beast did thither bring Himself, to be an offering. And as for thieves, thy bounty's such, They cannot steal, thou giv'st so much. Vincent, Arthur, ed.