1

COLD, it is cold, and my sad heart is still. The day is gray, and dark, and clouds Scud o'er the sky, the rain blots out the hill.

2

Strange is the light and my sad eyes are blank.

The way is rough and long; the thorns.

Grow o'er the path, the weeds are thick and rank.

3

Hard it is hard the way my heart will take. The latch is fast, the lock is rude, Perish will I, and love itself's at stake.

4

Knock ye must knock the gudeman is inside.

The fire is lit, the supper laid,

Rend but your head and wait whate'er betide.