Mad as the Mist and Snow

Bolt and bar the shutter

For the foul winds blow:

Our minds are at their best this night

And I seem to know

That everything outside us is

Mad as the mist and snow

Horace there by Homer stands

Plato stands below

And here is Tully's open page

How many years ago

Were you and I unlettered lads

Mad as the mist and snow?

You ask what makes me sigh, old friend

What makes me shudder so?

I shudder and I sigh to think

That even Cicero

And many-minded Homer were

Mad as the mist and snow