O, howled the wolf up to the starless sky,
His pain as crisp as freshly fallen snow.
The sparkle left his burning amber eye,
for she had left him pining down below.

The wind caressed him coldly, planted cool
kisses of ice upon his frosty face,
but he was nothing but a lover's fool,
and waited once again for her embrace.

For jealous Winter stole her from his gaze,
and held her closely in his clutch of cloud.
Though chill had tried to quench his heart ablaze,
his song rang out among the mountains loud:

"My love is blind, and yet my love is true,
as here I save my last heart beat for you!"