JANUARY,
Bitter, very!
February damp, Sir;
March blows
On April's nose,
May has caught the cramp, Sir;
June,
Without a sun or moon!
July, August,
Many a raw gust;
September, October, November, December,
Ten times worse than I ever remember.
No apples, or hay, or honey, or corn;
I'm sure it wasn't a fat year.
Whenever you and I were born,
Good-luck it wasn't in that year!