The Snows Of France And Holland

Oh, the North wind knows no border,
as it shifts across the shore.
The road finds only the roads,
and the dark hides even more;
for there's many a weary corner
between Flanders and the rhine,
and the snows of France and Holland
have parted me and mine.

There's sounds to hear and sounds to fear
and sights to make you sing,
and the bonniest in the morning
is the snow goose on the wing,
for her neck is long and slender,
her road's a simple line,
and the snows of France and Holland
have parted me and mine.

The moon stands o'er the ocean,
and the waves roll back the tide.
The strongest man is the wisest fool
till he knows the road he rides,
for the snow goose cries to the cold North wind,
the fool cries out for signs,
and the snows of France and Holland
have parted me and mine.