Classic Poem

Old Winter's hobbling down the road,
Dame Autumn's cloak looks frosty grey
With a furry edge.
We deemed it berry red in the ray
The sun vouchsafed the dying day
E'en now through the gap in the hedge.

Chorus

Spring's gone, Summer's past,
Autumn will never, never catch them,
But Winter hobbles along so fast
You'd almost think he'd match them.

Old Winter carries a heavy load,
Sticks and stakes to your heart's desire,
But as for me,
I'll not tramp in the Autumn mire,
But sit and blink at the merry fire
And hark to the kettle's minstrelsy.

Chorus

Spring's gone, Summer's past,
Autumn was mellow, mellow yellow,
But for all old Winter's hollow blast
He's not such a bad old fellow.