A long time ago when I was young in a country far away
A cold wind blew down from the hill on the morning of St Stephen's Day
It had been freezing overnight and the fields with frost were gray
And one of the farmer's cows of malnutrition died from eating poor quality hay.
The Summer had been wet and the Autumn too and his cows now looking thin
And on his small farm by the hill the herd numbers down to ten
How many cows would he have left before the dawn of May
A lot of cold and wintery weeks till Spring from St Stephen's Day?
His wife expecting their first child and the bleak days were ahead
He said pehaps we ought to sell 'not a bad idea she said'
For 'tis never easy by the hill for a poor farmer's wife
We ought to sell and move to a big town and make a new start in life.
A cold wind blew down from the hill and across the countryside
And the poor farmer felt poorer still as one of his cows had died
It had been freezing overnight and the fields with frost were gray
And on the bare hedgerows birds did not sing on the morning of St Stephen's Day.
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