| The coldest winter in memory was 1709
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| The sea froze off the coast of France all along the Neptune line
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| By the lost town of Dunwich the shore was washed away
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| They say you hear the church bells still as they toll beneath the waves
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| Come all you earthly princes, wheresoever you may be From the Sun King in the court of France to the Czar in Muscovy
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| Take heed of Charles of Sweden, the Lion of the North,
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| On the cracked earth of summer with his army he goes forth
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| Guardian angels wherever you may be,
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| reach down and keep my soul for me I was there amongst that number, I heard the trumpets strain
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| I saw the host of banners spread across the Polish plain
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| Those who stood against us, they soon were swept away
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| They may have the numbers but it’s Charles shall have the day
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| We cut our way through forests, crossed on frozen streams
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| They fell away before us like a murmur in a dream
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| And they burned the land around us as snow was closing in And the arms of winter took us as we fired against the wind
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| Guardian angels wherever you may be,
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| reach down and keep my soul for me Through all the courts of Europe there’s a rumor from the East
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| The kings have come to battle and it’s Charles who’s known defeat
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| They’ll shake their heads and wonder at how this came to be But it’s nights without a shelter that have made an end for me Now Charles is fled to Turkey, left his men afar
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| And they’ll be marched through Moscow now as prisoners of the Czar
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| And had I but known last summer what I know understand
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| I’d have never set my foot inside this bleak and bitter land
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| Guardian angels wherever you may be,
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| reach down and keep my soul for me The coldest winter in memory was 1709
|
| The sea froze off the coast of France all along the Neptune line
|
| By the lost town of Dunwich the shore was washed away
|
| They say you hear the church bells still as they toll beneath the waves |