Chill Penury And Winter's Power

Chill penury and winter's power
Upon my soul so hard have prest,
That I would fain have seen no more
The red flow'rs that the meadows drest:

Yet, truth! 'twere hard, if I were gone,
Upon the merry-making throng,
That loud with joy was wont to ring,
And o'er the green to dance and spring!