Cold is the wind, fast falls the rain,
The cock aye shrilly crows.
But I have seen my lord again;--
Now must my heart repose.
Whistles the wind, patters the rain,
The cock's crow far resounds.
But I have seen my lord again,
And healed are my heart's wounds.
All's dark amid the wind and rain,
Ceaseless the cock's clear voice!
But I have seen my lord again;--
Should not my heart rejoice?
