JACK FROST

Clear winter wind,

what know you of he,

who bites the nose and tickles the toes,

in winters that have been

Bright winter wind, what doth he do,

when all he is, is gone

When the coldest winters give way to spring,

and all frozen hearts must melt

Swift winter wind, were doth he dwell,

when his reign is done

Does he fade like morning mist, or ride on,

in search of those who treasure the cold

Harsh winter wind, what will he do,

when winter no longer comes

When warm weather reins,

the biting wind dies and snow, is but a memory

Lame winter wind, I tell you know,

hell ride the winds forever.

The biting edge to the fair fall breeze.

And forever a reminder, of times,

when the world was not lit by dew drops,

but ice, frost and life's fire.