Explore "A Canadian Calendar: XII Lyrics" by Francis Sherman on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
1. / What! and do you find it good, / Sitting here alone with me? / Hark! the wind goes through the wood / And the snow drifts heavily,
When the morning brings the light / How know I you will not say, / "What a storm there fell last night, / Is the next inn far away?"