On this cold and frosty night
I walked through twinkling fields
And saw an orange moon rise
Like a goddess peering over the edge
Of the bed that I lay dreaming on.
As I walked alone through
Frozen land of still sheep,
This goddess rose slowly
Over the world,
Tinting all with her golden light.
But as she rose and came to know
More of what she saw,
She started to reveal her
And it was silver.
And as cold as the grass.