The cold blast at the casement beats;
  The window-panes are white;
The snow whirls through the empty streets;
  It is a dreary night!
Sit down, old friend, the wine-cups wait;
  Fill to o’erflowing, fill!
Though winter howleth at the gate,
  In our hearts ’t is summer still!

For we full many summer joys
  And greenwood...