The Cold Song
John Dryden, Henry Purcell
What power art thou?
Who from below
Hast made me rise?
Unwillingly and slow
From beds of everlasting snow!
See'st thou not how stiff
And wondrous old?
Far unfit to bear the bitter cold...
I can scarcely move
Or draw my breath
I can scarcely move
Or draw my breath
Let me, let me
Let me, let me
Freeze again...
Let me, let me
Freeze again to death!