Winter's on the Wing - John Cameron Mitchell

DICKON:

Winter’s on the wing,

Here’s a fine spring morn'

Comin' clear through the night,

Come the day I say.

Winter’s taken flight

Sweepin' dark cold air

Out to sea, Spring is born,

Comes the day say I,

And you’ll be here to see it.

Stand and breathe it all the day.

Stoop, and feel it. Stop and hear it.

Spring, I say.

And now the sun is climbin' high,

Rising fast on fire,

Glaring down through the gloom,

Gone the gray, I say.

The sun it spells the doom

Of the winter’s reign,

Ice and chill must retire

Comes the May say I,

And you’ll be here to see it.

Stand and breathe it all the day.

Stoop, and feel it. Stop and hear it.

Spring, I say.

I say, be gone, ye howling gales,

Be off, ye frosty morns!

All ye solid streams begin to thaw.

Melt, ye waterfalls,

Part ye frozen winter walls.

See, see now it’s starting.

And now the mist is liftin' high,

Leavin' bright blue air

Rollin' clean 'cross the moor

Comes the day I say.

The storm’ll soon be by Leaving clear blue sky,

Soon the sun will shine,

Comes the day, say I.

And you’ll be here to see it.

Stand and breathe it all the day.

Stoop and feel it. Stop and hear it.

Spring, I say.