Song by an Old Shepherd

When silver snow decks Sylvio’s cloaths
And jewel hangs at shepherd’s nose,
We can abide life’s pelting storm
That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.

Whilst Virtue is our walking staff,
And Truth a lantern to our path;
We can abide life’s pelting storm
That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.

Blow boisterous Wind, stern Winter frown,
Innocence is a Winter’s gown;
So clad, we’ll abide life’s pelting storm
That makes our limbs quake, if our hearts be warm.