The New-Liveried Year
FROM CHARLES D’ORLÉANS
THE year has changed his mantle coldOf wind, of rain, of bitter air,And he goes clad in cloth of goldOf laughing suns and season fair;No bird or beast of wood or woldBut doth in cry or song declare‘The year has changed his mantle cold!’All founts, all rivers seaward rolledTheir pleasant summer livery wearWith silver studs on broidered vair,The world puts off its raiment old,The year has changed his mantle cold.