(from 'Address to a lark singing in winter')

Aye — little Larkie what’s the reason
Singing thus in winter season
Nothing surely can be pleasing
To make thee sing

For I see nought but cold and freezing
And feel it sting

Perhaps (all done wi' silent mourning)
Thou thinks that summer is returning
And this the last cold frosty morning
To chill thy breast

If so I pity thy discerning
And so I've guessed

(for a cold lady…)