June American Murder Song (Ft. Lindsay Schoolcraft)

Sixth of June, 1816

I must confess that I have not written often of late
And when I do, it is a clemency I give myself
For the inkwell continues to freeze
This has surely been as cold a weather as any man has known
The calendar is false. I say, is this not summer?
The east hills that overlook my property
They have all been killed by frost
The less fit plants and vegetation
Beg for mercy where there is none
I have none. I want none

Worse still, an almost perpetual rain
Confines me principally to pace the house
Where I have taken to wearing socks and coats
And gloves too big for my fingers
A steady fire has been required at all hours
Though the ice in the wood has made it difficult to chop
And heavy to carry, troublesome to drag

Copious showers have been attended
With lightening and thunder
And the road has been barren of souls for weeks
Save for a post delivery last Tuesday
Is this what we fought for?
I would have welcomed the company
Of course, but it was a parcel for Silas
The rider asked to come inside
To be spared from the crippling frost
(Go 'way, go 'way from my window)
But I set him off