As I betake to part of my cherished hearth,
And traverse the wintry swathes----
That cloak the earth, the erstwhile warmth;
Yea, the frost hath come again.----

Hail I early morn, the light of dawn,
The skies sanguine-stained.
Tho' the path is long I continue on,
For yon do you await.

Your locks and skin of beauteous ebon,
Your eyes of Gallic beige,
So solace the *****, wearied and lonesome,
'Mid these invernal days.

Will I bear the brunt of winter's clutch
To share with you a lover's gaze,
O worry not, my queenly love,
For anon will I be there.