letra de december by john payne - richard mitchley
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the roofs are dreary with the drifted rime
and in the air a stillness as of death
th’approach of some portentousness foresaith
december comes, the tyrant of the time
vaunt-courier of the cold hybernal clime
mute is the world for misery; no breath
nor stir of sound there is, that welcometh
the coming of the winter’s woeful prime
“alack! was ever such a thing as spring?”
we say, hand-holding to the hearths of yulе
“did ever roses blow or throstlеs sing?”
and in our ears the wild blast shrilleth, “fool
that, in this world of ruin and decay
thy heart’s hopes buildest on the summer day!”
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