"Amidst a scene of such a cast, The driving sleet, or falling snow, The sullen cloud, the northern blast, What have you left for comfort now, When all is dead, or seems to die That cheer'd the heart or charm'd the eye? "To meet the scene, and it arrives, (A scene that will in time retire) Enjoy the pine--while that remains You need not want the winter fire. It rose unask'd for, from the plain, And when consumed, will rise again. "Enjoy the glass, enjoy the board, Nor discontent with fate betray, Enjoy what reason will afford, Nor disregard what females say; Their chat will pass away the time, When out of cash or out of rhyme. "The cottage warm and cheerful heart Will cheat the stormy winter night, Will bid the glooms of care depart And to December give delight."-- Thus spoke October--rather gay, Then seized his staff, and walk'd away. [190] From the edition of 1815. TO A CATY-DID[A][191] [A] A well-known insect, when full grown, about two inches in length, and of the exact color of a green leaf. It is of the genus cicada, or grasshopper kind, inhabiting the green foliage of trees and singing such a song as Caty-did in the evening, towards autumn.--_Freneau's note._ In a branch of willow hid Sings the evening Caty-did: From the lofty locust bough Feeding on a drop of dew, In her suit of green array'd Hear her singing in the shade Caty-did, Caty-did, Caty-did! While upon a leaf you tread, Or repose your little head, On your sheet of shadows laid, All the day you nothing said: Half the night your cheery tongue Revell'd out its little song, Nothing else but Caty-did. From your lodgings on the leaf Did you utter joy or grief--? Did you only mean to say, I have had my summer's day, And am passing, soon, away To the grave of Caty-did:-- Poor, unhappy Caty-did! But you would have utter'd more Had you known of nature's power-- From the world when you retreat, And a leaf's your winding sheet, Long before your spirit fled, Who can tell but nature said, Live again, my Caty-did! Live, and chatter Caty-did. Tell me, what did Caty do? Did she mean to trouble you?-- Why was Caty not forbid To trouble little Caty-did?-- Wrong, indeed at you to fling, Hurting no one while you sing Caty-did! Caty-did! Caty-did! Why continue to complain? Caty tells me, she again Will not give you plague or pain:-- Caty says you may be hid Caty will not go to bed While you sing us Caty-did. Caty-did! Caty-did! Caty-did! But, while singing, you forgot To tell us what did Caty not: Caty-did not think of cold, Flocks retiring to the fold, Winter, with his wrinkles old, Winter, that yourself foretold When you gave us Caty-did.