| The snows, they melt the soonest when the wind begins to sing
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| The corn, it ripens fastest when the frosts are settlin' in
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| And when a lover tells me that my face she’ll soon forget
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| Before we part, I’ll wage a crown she’s bound to follow yet
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| The snows, they melt the soonest when the wind begins to sing
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| The swallow flies without a thought as long as it is spring
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| But when spring goes and winter blows, my love, she will be fain
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| For all her pride to follow me across the raging main
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| The snows, they melt the soonest when the wind begins to sing
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| The bee that flew when summer shone, in winter cannot sting
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| I’ve seen a lover’s anger melt between the night and the morn
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| But it’s surely not a harder thing to melt a woman’s scorn
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| So don’t you bid me farewell, no farewell I’ll receive
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| For you will lie with me, my love, then kiss and take your leave
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| I’ll wait here 'til the moorcock calls, and the martin takes the wing
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| For the snows, they melt the soonest when the winds begin to sing
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| The snows, they melt the soonest when the winds begin to sing
|
| The corn, it ripens fastest when the frosts are settlin' in
|
| And when a lover tells me that my face she’ll soon forget
|
| Before we part, I’ll wage a crown she’s bound to follow yet |