King Winter
Produced by Jason Isbell, Jeroen van Luin, Irma ?pehar and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
[Transcribers note: This project has some lovely illustrations that are best enjoyed by viewing the HTML edition.]
King Winter
Published by Gustav W. Seitz Hamburg.
ENTP at Stationer's Hall
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The sky is dull and grey, Piercing and chill the blast, Each step resounds on the frosty ground, Winter is come at last.
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Mamma sits by the fire Her little ones round her knees. "How cosy we are, Mamma," they cry, "Tell us something, if you please."
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"Tell us about King Winter, And about Jack Frost, his man; We'll not be noisy or naughty at all, But as good as ever we can."
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"Well then;" says mamma, "you, Jenny, May knit and listen, my dear; And Johnny may split up wood, to make The fire burn bright and clear."
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King Winter dwells in the North; Far away in the Frozen Zone, In a palace of snow he holds his court, And sits on an icy throne.
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He has cushions of course: his Queen Made them out of her wedding gown. Stuffing them well with snowflakes fine, And soft as eiderdown.
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The King has a trusty servant, Jack Frost is his name; his nose Is raspberry red, his beard is white, And stiff as a crutch it grows.
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Old Jack is a sturdy good fellow, And serves their Majesties well; He's here and he's there, and he's everywhere, And does more than I can tell.
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Each year, as the day comes round, The king and his royal train Set off on a tour through the wide wide world, And sweep over mountain and plain.
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His Majesty fails not to visit Every clime that's not too hot, To look in upon both high and low, From the palace down to the cot.
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Jack Frost has a busy time then, But he's helped and advised by the Queen, That all may be right when the King goes forth, And everything fit to be seen.
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That the King may have pleasant travel, And no stone hurt his royal toe, Her Majesty spreads all over the earth, A carpet of downy snow.
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Fine mirrors the King delights in: None are finer than Jack can make: And in matchless sheets of crystal clear He lays them on river and lake.
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The trees, all naked and drear, He robes in the purest white, And with icicles shining with rainbow hues, He makes their branches bright.
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And for want of buds and blossoms To strew in his Majesty's way, With magic flowers of his own device He makes the windows gay.
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These wonders wrought in a single night May well excite surprise; Amazed is the sun when he gets up at dawn, And he stares with all his eyes.
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Then out come all the boys and girls, Jack's handiwork to view, And their noses and cheeks turn red with cold, Some of them even turn blue.
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They pelt each other with snow, Roll it up in a mighty ball, And shout and laugh and scamper about, And heels over head they fall.
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They make a huge man of snow, As grand as a Russian Czar, A wooden sword in his hand, in his mouth, A carrot to serve for cigar.
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His eyes, his hair, and his beard, They paint as black as my shoe With burnt stick, but they spoil his nose, For they stick it rather askew.
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Then what do you think? For a cockshot They take him; they pelt him and hit; They knock of the snowman's ears and nose, But he does not mind it a bit.
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Hurrah! for the good thick ice. Oh! isn't it jolly? They slide, They skate, and in sleighs so fine they go, And swift as the wind they glide.
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King Winter laughs at the sport, Cries "Bravo!" and claps his hands, And calling in haste for his man, Jack Frost, He gives him these commands:
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"Go see the papas and mammas, And bring me word what they say: Have the children been good and well behaved, Since last I came this way?"
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The King trims Christmas trees, To give to good girls and boys, With tapers and trinkets of silver and gold, And all sorts of dainties and toys.
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The Queen cuts twigs of birch, Of birch so supple and keen, And daintily ties them up into rods The finest that ever were seen.
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Soon with this word to the King Jack Frost comes back at a trot: "Good have most of the children been, But some of them have not."
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The King gives him the pretty trees, The Queen the rods so smart, And away goes Jack again with his load, Till every house has its part.
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Cakes, mince-pies nuts and apples, Good children get from the King. You can guess what the naughty get, The rods are the only thing.
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"Oh dear mamma," cries Jenny, "Johnny's been good, and so have I! Pray tell Jack Frost we don't want the rod, Oh! do ask him to put it by."
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Mamma smiles on her darlings, They run to her, kiss her, and say: "How long do you think will it be, Mamma, Ere King Winter goes away?"
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"He will lay upon Baby's cradle The snowdrops that early come forth; And then, my dears, he will bid us good bye And go back to his home in the North."
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