In the time of the sorrowful famine year When the crops were scanty and bread was dear, The good squire's fertile and sheltered farm In his valley nestled secure from harm And the summer winds blew with an icy breath In 1800 and Froze to Death. And the buyers gathered with eager greed To speculate on the poor man's need. But the good squire said, "It is all in vain. No one with money can buy my grain. But they who are hungry may come and take Their ample store for the giver's sake." That good old man to his rest is gone But his fame still lingers in the golden corn. For every year in its ripening grain That grand old story is told again, How the summer winds blew with an icy breath In 1800 and Froze to Death.
recording: Pete Sutherland & Karen Sutherland [YouTube]
notes: song background and musical analysis [About the Song]