Northern Winter

How I hate the northern winter

With its snow and sleet and flurry

With its days so dark and dreary

When the very sun seems frozen

And asleep behind the snow-clouds.

Then it is the King of Winter

From his frozen lair to northward

Strides across the frozen country

Strides across the lakes and rivers

Freezing, Killing as he goeth

With his icy breath so might

Breathes upon the birds and flowers

Causing birds to cease their singing

And the flowers to fade and perish.

Come again O Shawandasee

Bring the birds with all their music

Bring the flowers in all their splendor

Chase the Frozen King to northward

Rule and make you people happy.

Written by Ida May Schaffer

January 24, 1925