One of the worst things about winter is the cold.
One of the best things about winter is the stars.
Over hill and under tree
Through lands where never light has shone
By silver streams that run down to the sea
Under cloud, beneath the stars
Over snow and winter’s morn
I turn at last to paths that lead home
And though where the road then takes me,
I cannot tell
We came all this way
But now comes the day
To bid you farewell