To My Wife

Fast falls the snow, O lady mine!Sprinkling the lawn with crystals fine;But, by the gods, we won't repine,While we're together!We'll chat and rhyme, and kiss and dine,Defying weather.

So stir the fire and pour the wine,And let those sea-green eyes divinePour their love-madness into mine;I don't care whether'Tis snow or sun, or rain or shine,If we're together.