The trees stand stark with their branches bare
The sun shines chill and is seldom there
There is snow, and ice, and freezing rain,
And a world of sorrow, and death, and pain:
But in winter's heart, the dark turns back.
We burn our candles against the night,
We declare ourselves for love and light,
Though the world is great and we are small
We sing and give presents despite it all:
And in winter's heart, the dark turns back.