Impromptu, On Mrs. R----'s Birthday.
By Robert Burns
Old Winter, with his frosty beard, Thus once to Jove his prayer preferr'd, What have I done of all the year, To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know; Night's horrid car drags, dreary, slow: My dismal months no joys are crowning, But spleeny English, hanging, drowning. Now, Jove, for once be mighty civil, To counterbalance all this evil; Give me, and I've no more to say, Give me Maria's natal day! That brilliant gift shall so enrich me, Spring, Summer, Autumn, cannot match me; 'Tis done! says Jove; so ends my story, And Winter once rejoiced in glory.
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"Old Winter, with his frosty beard,..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Robert Burns delivers a powerful performance in "Impromptu, On Mrs. R----'s Birthday."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...