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The trees are all bare, not a leaf to be seen
And the meadows their beauty have lost.    
Now winter has come and 'tis cold for man and beast
And the streams they are all fast bound down with frost.

'Twas down in the farmyard where oxen feed on straw
They send forth their breath like the steam.
Sweet Betsy the milkmaid now quickly she must go
For flakes of ice she finds a-floating on her cream.

'Tis now all the small birds to the barn-door fly for food
And gently they rest on the spray
A-down the plantation the hares do search for food
And lift their footsteps sure for fear the do betray.

Now Christmas is come and our song is almost done
For we soon shall have the turning of the year.
So fill up your glasses and let your health go round
For I wish you all a joyful New Year. 

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Source: Bob Copper, A Song for Every Season, Coppersongs, 1997


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