One winter’s morn the cry went out,
“This morning we will row!”
Four grizzled scullers then appeared
All pogied for the snow.

A team of doctors was on call.
Of course, four lawyers too.
Four wives prepared for widowhood.
Would they return? Who knew?

Four next of kin blinked tearful eyes,
Four wills were charged anew.
Four dogs gave forth a mournful howl;
What none would say, they knew.

They bravely launched. Their faces froze,
Their lives rushed grimly past.
One froze his nose, the next his toes,
A third cried out, “Avast!”

Down came the snow, the tempest howled,
It was the Row from Hell.
They made it to their turning stake.
How did they? None can tell.

And then the stroke came boldly forth,
A man of many years.
“I’ll save your souls!” he loudly quoth,
Then mocked them for their fears.

He dared the tempest more to roar.
He laughed. He’d come prepared.
He then brought forth a silver flask,
This with the others shared.

The moral of this frigid tale
Of those, whom winter dared,
Who did survive, returned alive:
Is always be prepared.