Well, this is awful weather;
Storming with rain and snow!
I sit at the window,
Into the darkness below.
A little glimmering
Goes down the uncertain street—A lantern, and a
With tired and stumbling feet.
I think it's eggs and
That the old lady has
To bake a cake for her daughter,
The lazy good-for-naught.
Yawning at home on the sofa,
She lies in front of the blaze—The golden hair is
About her golden face.
