William Cowper

Transforms old print
To zigzag manuscript, and cheats the eyes
Of gallery critics by a thousand arts.

Transforms old print
To zigzag manuscript, and cheats the eyes
Of gallery critics by a thousand arts.

Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.

Spring hangs her infant blossoms on the trees,
Rock'd in the cradle of the western breeze.

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

A kick that scarce would move a horse,
May kill a sound divine.

The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk,
Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk,
Is always read more

The Frenchman, easy, debonair, and brisk,
Give him his lass, his fiddle, and his frisk,
Is always happy, reign whoever may,
And laughs the sense of mis'ry far away.

Now stir the fire, and close the shudders fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
read more

Now stir the fire, and close the shudders fast,
Let fall the curtains, wheel the sofa round,
And while the bubbling and loud-hissing urn
Throws up a steamy column, and the cups,
That cheer but not inebriate, wait on each,
So let us welcome peaceful evening in.