HE wind's
on the wold
And the night is a-cold,
And Thames runs chill
'Twixt mead and hill.
But kind and
dear
Is the old house here
And my heart is warm
'Midst winter's harm.
Rest then and rest,
And think of the best
'Twixt summer and spring,
When all birds sing
In
the town of the tree,
And ye be in me
And scarce dare move,
Lest earth and its love
Should fade away
Ere the full of the day.
I am old and have seen
Many things that have been;
