Copyright © 2004 by Paul Howarth
All Rights Reserved

The snow lies white and the moon gives light
I'll out to the freezing mere,
And ease my heart with one little song,
For none will be nigh to hear
For none will be nigh to hear.
And it's O my love, my love!
And it's O my dear, my dear!
It's of her that I'll sing till the wild woods ring,
When nobody's nigh to hear.
It's of her that I'll sing till the wild woods ring,
When nobody's nigh to hear.
My love is young, she is young, is young,
When she laughs the dimple dips;
We walk'd in the wind, and her long locks blew
Till sweetly they touch'd my lips,
Till sweetly they touch'd my lips.
And I'll out to the freezing mere,
Where the stiff reeds whistle so low,
And I'll tell my mind to the friendly wind
Because I have lov'd her so-
Because I have lov'd her so-
Ay, and she's true, my lady is true!
And that's the best of it all;
And when she blushes my heart so yearns
That tears are ready to fall
Tears are ready to fall.
And it's O my love, my love!
And it's O my dear, my dear!
It's of her that I sing till the wild woods ring,
When nobody's nigh to hear
It's of her that I sing till the wild woods ring,
When nobody's nigh to hear.

By Arthur Sullivan
Generated by NoteWorthy Composer

The Snow Lies White
Lyrics by Jean Ingelow
Vocal
Right Hand
Left Hand