So severe was the cold of this winter, that when we passed out of the parlour warmed by the stove, our cheeks were struck by the air as by cold iron.

I slept in a room over a passage that was not ceiled.

The people of the house used to say rather unfeelingly, that they expected I should be frozen to death some night; but with the protection of a pelisse lined with fur, and a dog's-skin bonnet, such as was worn by the peasants, I walked daily on the ramparts, or on a sort of public ground or garden, in which was a pond.
Here I had no companion but a kingfisher, a beautiful creature that used to glance by me.

I consequently became much attached to it.

During these walks I composed the poem that follows, 'The Poet's Epitaph.' Foot-note .-- The Reader must be apprised, that the Stoves in North Germany generally have the impression of a gallopping horse upon them, this being part of the Brunswick Arms.
428.