The Snow It Melts The Soonest

A song at 4am

Dec 03, 2023

I was woken by my daughter at 3.30am because of the snow. She was so excited. We had to go out and have a look didn’t we. It was quite an impressive show actually (this is how bright it was at 4am).

The weather forecast often exaggerates but here we are trudging through a good 5 inches in our pyjamas and boots - me half-asleep and Poppy ecstatic.

We live on the edge of the city now and I can only imagine how beautiful it must look at our old place in the woods. And here it is - a very special place and one of the first singing videos I ever shared publicly, February 2020.

How can I not sing this song when it snows. At the slightest flurry of the white stuff I am there. We’ve had snow in March and April the last couple of years - like last year when my littlest one was still but a tiny baby.

My bedroom has two windows and we are surrounded by trees so I can still imagine that I live deep in the forest. I recall the feeling of this moment so well. I felt so safe and content snowed in with my baby. (oh yes, it was around Mother’s Day as there are cards by the window).

“The Snows They Melt the Soonest” is a traditional British song that dates back to at least 1821.
The Snow It Melts The Soonest is included on Sting’s Christmas album If On a Winter’s night.
Here are his lyrics though I do prefer the original ones that I learnt from Anne Briggs (this begs the question - does a folk song have “original” lyrics? They can be chopped, changed and altered at will)

Lyrics

O, the snow it melts the soonest
when the winds begin to sing;
And the corn it ripens fastest
when the frosts are setting in;
And when a woman tells me that
my face she’ll soon forget,
Before we part, I wad a crown,
she’s fain to follow’t yet.

The snow it melts the soonest
when the wind begins to sing;
And the swallow skims without
a thought as long as it is spring;
But when spring goes, and winter blows,
my lass, an ye’ll be fain,
For all your pride, to follow me,
were’t cross the stormy main.

O, the snow it melts the soonest
when the wind begins to sing;
The bee that flew when summer shined,
in winter cannot sting;
I’ve seen a woman’s anger melt
between the night and morn,
And it’s surely not a harder thing
to tame a woman’s scorn.

O, never say me farewell here
-no farewell I’ll receive,
For you shall set me to the stile,
and kiss and take your leave;
But I’ll stay here till the woodcock comes,
and the martlet takes his wing,
Since the snow aye melts the soonest,
lass, when the wind begins to sing.

(Sting’s version is at the bottom of this article)

I think it’s quite a sad song really - always brings a slight feeling of melancholy. (though that is usually negated by the joy of seeing the snow!).

This one is the Anne Briggs version from a high point in the woods. It is quite a steep hillock (if that is even a word…? ) and used to be known as the Hills of Annesley, immortalised in poems by Lord Byron.1

I have seen some stuff up here on the hill. Literally right where I am singing here I once saw a whole load of mediaeval knights on horseback fly by. Well, gallop is more the word but because they were not of this earth it was more like fly. Again, it was an echo, a replay of some events long ago. So yes they were still of this earth but I was viewing them in another plane of existence.

I was walking with the hound one day and watched in awe as I reached the top of the path when I felt this sudden rush of energy and then saw horses. I literally felt like I had to step back from the path to let them by. Once they had passed I followed to the place where they had all gathered - a clearing and the exact same place where I filmed this song. Here, a story began to unfold.

It was a tale of knights, lost love and a journey from France. A French noble woman who had become a lady of the church, a nun and who had come to England with this troops of brave knights. She had fallen in love with one of them. Alas he got killed somewhere close to this very spot. I got names and everything. One day (don't know when) I'd love to research this properly and see if there is indeed any historical evidence remaining.

This area is all wooded now - mainly pine trees as it is a Forestry Commision plantation. Thus you cannot really see that far but I could almost see the view back then from this high point. You’d have been able to see quite far, whereas now you cannot see past the wood.

Who knows if I just imagined the entire thing. I don’t think I did actually. It was as real to me as seeing a play enacted in front of me with real , human actors.

Yes this is an AI image but very close to how I saw it!

Anyway, back to the song. Here’s little Robin seeing his first snow.

Oh and if you want to hear a really haunting version here is Anne Briggs - well known (in the folk world at least) singer from good old Nottingham, my home town.