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The coldest winter in memory was 1709 |
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The sea froze off the coast of France all along the Neptune line |
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By the lost town of Dunwich the shore was washed away |
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They say you hear the church bells still as they toll beneath the waves |
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Come all you earthly princes, wheresoever you may be |
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From the Sun King in the court of France to the Czar in Muscovy |
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Take heed of Charles of Sweden, the Lion of the North, |
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On the cracked earth of summer with his army he goes forth |
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Guardian angels wherever you may be, |
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reach down and keep my soul for me |
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I was there amongst that number, I heard the trumpets strain |
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I saw the host of banners spread across the Polish plain |
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Those who stood against us, they soon were swept away |
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They may have the numbers but it's Charles shall have the day |
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We cut our way through forests, crossed on frozen streams |
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They fell away before us like a murmur in a dream |
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And they burned the land around us as snow was closing in |
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And the arms of winter took us as we fired against the wind |
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Guardian angels wherever you may be, |
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reach down and keep my soul for me |
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Through all the courts of Europe there's a rumor from the East |
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The kings have come to battle and it's Charles who's known defeat |
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They'll shake their heads and wonder at how this came to be |
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But it's nights without a shelter that have made an end for me |
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Now Charles is fled to Turkey, left his men afar |
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And they'll be marched through Moscow now as prisoners of the Czar |
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And had I but known last summer what I know understand |
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I'd have never set my foot inside this bleak and bitter land |
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Guardian angels wherever you may be, |
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reach down and keep my soul for me |
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The coldest winter in memory was 1709 |
|
The sea froze off the coast of France all along the Neptune line |
|
By the lost town of Dunwich the shore was washed away |
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They say you hear the church bells still as they toll beneath the waves |