the summer sweets have faded,

the hedge, the vine, and briar,

come, put your hand in mine, my friend,

draw closer to the fire.

from footstools let us view the heights

to which great minds aspire;

here’s riley, keats and emerson,

draw closer to the fire.

a brave refrain from unknown bards

and byron’s brave satire,

frank stanton’s tears and tenderness,

draw closer to the fire.

tho’ cold the winds and fierce the blast,

and thwarted our heart’s desire,

we’ve robert frost to cheer the hearth,

draw closer to the fire.

give me your hand, my steadfast friend;

the words that friends require

stay with me thru the dying year,

draw closer to the fire.