My thanks to Jim and Joe on this song; never guessed it was a choral composition for women; it has a lovely melody so it should be a folk song!

The full words of the song modify the poem by Anna Temple a little bit;

O ye clouds, that float above me,
O ye winds, that round me blow,
Can ye tell me from what quarter
Comes the driving snow?
"From the north, inquiring maiden,
Where an old man, stooping low
By his grate, mourns o'er the ashes,"
Said the winds that blow.

"See him as he stoops and shivers,
Rubs his wrinkled hands and sighs
Just one ember left a-glowing,
And that ember dies.
"Come back, summer, come and warm me,
I am cold,I am cold," he cries.

Then he catches up the bellows,
Tries to make the ember glow,
Only sets the ashes whirling,
Dancing to and fro.

And the ashes of the summer,
Are the flakes, the flakes of snow;
Are the flakes of snow.