1700.
WHEN hoary winter whitened all the plains,
There sallied forth in search of merriment
Young Celadon, the sprightliest of the swains
That Holworthy's time-honored walls frequent.
And while along the icy path he strayed
His long and slippery course, he chanced to meet
The beauteous Chloe, fairest, loveliest maid
That haunts the classic shades of Garden Street.
His Derby hat he lifts with airy grace,
The wintry winds play through his ebon hair,
The glassy ice his erring foot betrays,
Supine he lies before the matchless fair.
From Chloe's lips the winged laughter flies
As to the winds his erring heels are tossed.
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Appleton Chapel.