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Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing, |
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And the corn it ripens fastest when the frost is settling in, |
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And when a woman tells me my face she'll soon forget, |
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Before we'll part, I'll wage a croon, she's fain to follow't yet. |
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Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing, |
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And the swallow skims without a thought as long as it is spring; |
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But when spring goes, and winter blows, my lassie you'll be fain, |
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For all your pride, to follow me across the stormy main. |
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Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing, |
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And the bee that flew when summer shone, in winter cannot sting; |
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I've seen a woman's anger melt betwixt the night and morn, |
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Oh it's surely not a harder thing to tame a woman's scorn. |
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Oh, never say me farewell here, no farewell I'll receive, |
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And you shall set me to the stile and kiss and take your leave; |
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I'll stay until the curlew calls and the martlet takes his wing, |
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Oh, the snow it melts the soonest when the winds begin to sing. |
