JACK FROST, A SONG

1 Who hath killed the pretty flow’rs, Born and bred in summer bowers; Who hath ta’en away their bloom Who hath swept them to the tomb? Jack Frost, Jack Frost. 2 Who hath chased the birds so gay, Lark and linnet, all away? Who hath hushed their joyous breath, And made the woodland still as death? Jack Frost—Jack Frost. 3 Who hath chilled the laughing river? Who doth make the old oak shiver? Who hath wrapped the world in snow? Who doth make the wild winds blow? Jack Frost—Jack Frost. 4 Who doth ride on snowy drift When the night wind’s keen and swift— O’er the land and o’er the sea— Bent on mischief—who is he? Jack Frost—Jack Frost. 5 Who doth strike with icy dart, The way-worn traveller to the heart? Who doth make the ocean-wave— The seaman’s home—the seaman’s grave? Jack Frost—Jack Frost. 6 Who doth prowl at midnight hour Like a thief around the door, Through each crack and crevice creeping, Through the very key-hole peeping? Jack Frost—Jack Frost. 7 Who doth pinch the traveller’s toes? Who doth wring the school-boy’s nose? Who doth make your fingers tingle? Who doth make the sleigh bells jingle? Jack Frost—Jack Frost.