The Book of Odes, by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1908], at sacred-texts.com

p. 19

FLIGHT

Cold and keen the north wind blows,
  Silent falls the shroud of snows.
    You who gave me your heart
    Let us join hands and depart!
        Is this a time for delay?
            Now, while we may,
                  Let us away.

Wailingly the north wind goes,
Wailing through a whirl of snows.
    You who gave me your heart
    Let us join hands and depart!
        Is this a time for delay?
           Now, while we may,
             Let us away.

Only the lonely fox is red,
Black but the crow-flight overhead.
    You who gave me your heart,
    The chariot creaks to depart,
        Is this a time for delay?
           Now, while we may,
             Let us away.