Oh wind how pious doth you blow,
Like Aeolus in the winter snow.
Oh Godly God you do partake,
On earth, in heaven my soul to take.
I pray upon your tragic war,
As you blow, destroying all.
My temperament lie bare and dull,
My belly not yet full.
We’ll wait in eve for the storm to pass,
As we wait to lift our glass.
And cheer the warrior in the might.
As winter tears and fights.