The Yellow’s turned to black and white.
’Tis such a monotone!
The Wind, his icy teeth has bared
And gnawed me to the bone.

The Rock has hid his face in cloud.
’Tis such a cold, cold hell —
The Tree, no longer proud,
Has bid the Leaf farewell!

The Loch’s removed his coat of blue.
’Tis such a deep, deep grey.
His sympathy consoles me
As Winter comes what may.