A Winter was last in woolly Robes array'd,
And bent with feeble Age his hoary Head;
Shrunk in himself he wrapt his Garments close,
And inly trembled as the Tempest rose.
His Length of Beard and deep intended Brow,
​Were whiten'd o'er with an eternal Snow.
Prone to the Earth his bending Back declin'd,
And, almost, froze, he shiver'd in the Wind;
Propp'd on a Staff, he slowly, mov'd along;
And round him loud insuIting Boreas rung.