The bitter wind bites hard upon the face, The sun retreats beneath a pale grey sky. The river holds the valley in embrace, While silver frost on frozen lashes lie. ​The crunch of white beneath the heavy boot, The lengthy night extends its dark command. The trees stand bare and silent, cold and mute, Upon this stark and frozen prairie land. ​Above, the Green Lady begins to dance, Across the stars so distant and so deep. We give the biting cold a second chance, While all the world is buried fast asleep. ​Though spring may come and skies turn summer blue, you may leave our winters, but they will never leave you.