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In keeping with the winter weather theme of my blog as of late, I present below, a winter song. In spite of its title, this song makes me feel warm...especially when sung by an all-male choir. I can just picture a small group of bearded men in suspendered leggings, knee-high boots, and peasant shirts sitting in an snow lodge and toasting wooden mugs of hard cider.

Hear it here.

Hanover Winter Song Music by Frederic Field Bullard, Words by Richard Hovey

Ho, a song by the fire; Pass the pipes, pass the bowl.
Ho, a song by the fire With a skoal, with a skoal.
Ho, a song by the fire; Pass the pipes with a skoal,
For the wolf-wind is wailing at the doorways, And the snow drifts deep along the road,
And the ice gnomes are marching from their Norways, And the great white cold walks abroad.

REFRAIN:

But, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here, we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows;
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship.
Oh, here by the fire, we defy frost and storm;
Ha, ha, we are warm, and we have our heart's desire.
For here we're good fellows, and the beechwood and the bellows.
And the cup is at the lip in the pledge of fellowship, Of fellowship

Pile the logs on the fire; Fill the pipes, pass the bowl.
Pile the logs on the fire With a skoal, with a skoal.
Pile the logs on the fire; Fill the pipes with a skoal,
For the fire goblins flicker on the ceiling, And the wine witch glitters in the glass,
And the smoke wraiths are drifting, curling, reeling, And the sleigh bells jingle as they pass.

REPEAT REFRAIN

Oh, a God is the fire; Pull the pipes, drain the bowl.
Oh, a God is the fire; With a skoal, with a skoal.
Oh, a God is the fire; Pull the pipes with a skoal,
For the room has a spirit in the embers, Tis a God and our fathers knew his name,
And they worship'd him in long-forgot Decembers, And their hearts leap'd high with the flame.