I yearn for the long summer days
Lost in the frost of a cold winter haze
Mourning the weeks of lengthy hours
Begot by the bareness of wilted flowers
I sit my bum down at a fireplace
And wash the chill from off me face,
Now drinking down a pint of stout
Can warm the heart there is no doubt
To muse too much when winter’s here
Might shrivel up the festive cheer,
Best use these days but not to dwell
Nay wish upon a wishing well