For verdant fields my heart does long
in winter times so bleak;
this Winter's hardships last so long,
through snow my way I seek.
The lovely birds both young and old
ceased singing long ago.
Their home lies clasped in Winter's hold,
it makes them leave the forests cold
from ice and frost and snow.

He makes bright coloured flow'rs turn wan
in woodlands and in fields,
the grasses and the leaves have gone
where He his power wields.
Yet now all joy and zest arise
that Summer has at hand.
God make the Summer strong and wise
that southward He can draw the skies
and Winter's sway is banned.