Winter – Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

Winter comes; and our complaints 

Grow apace as summer faints, 

Waning days grow dull and drear, 

Something tells, too well, I fear, 

That I’ve found a germ or two; 

Something seems – ee! – ah! Tish-OO. 
Subthig certigly does tell 

That I’b very far frob weel. 

Ad I’b cadging cold, I fear 

As the wading days grow near, 

Winter cubs; ad our complades 

Grow apace as subber fades.

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