Classic Poem

To a worthy Friend, who often objects the coldnesse of the Winter in Newfound-Land, and may serve for all those that have the like conceit.

You say that you would live in Newfound-land,
Did not this one thing your conceit withstand;
You feare the Winters cold, sharp, piercing ayre
They love it best, that have once wintered there.
Winter is there, short, wholesome, constant, cleare,
Not thicke, unwholesome, snuffling, as " tis here.