 | Going-to-the-sun |  |
22
THE BATTLE-AX OF THE SUN
On the mountain peak I reached the drift
And I took it for a Christmas gift,
And I made ten soldiers out of snow.
And I took it for a Christmas gift,
And I made ten soldiers out of snow.
But the battle-ax of my fairy foe
Cut to the ground my men of snow.
Cut to the ground my men of snow.
And who was he, my fairy foe,
Who brought my snowy army low?
Who brought my snowy army low?
The mountain sun was my fairy foe.
| Going-to-the-sun | |