(Good King Wenceslas, almost, visits North Cove)

Brightly shone the stars that night
Tho’ the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight carrying winter fuel

The torch burned brightly in the night
And its glow was warming
A crowd of ploughboys formed a line, ready for their twirling

Come young man and stand by me
Get ready for the Sportsman
The Whiffler says you know this one but often need reminding

Crunching boots on icy ground,
marching with a swagger
Turn and spin and don’t let go, in case you get a clipping 

Up and down and arm in arm, listen to the music
Swing me round and keep me close
Don’t you let me go now.

Round we go and back and forth,
the circle gently swaying
to strange rhythms that the band is magnificently playing

Wrapped up warm the crowd looks on
Hands and feet they’re thumping
The dancing stops, the band retire, done with Winter dancing

 Dave Evans