The door

I walked a lot in the snow, I'm high and my heart strong. My clothes are wet, And my teeth are in agony, The road has been long For the painful path crisp. I wandered over the lush earth, But I've never been here before. Oh, Raise me on the Threshold And let me at the door!

The edge of the wind is a cruel enemy, I dare not stand in the storm. My hands are stone, And my voice laments. Worst of death has passed, But I'm still a little lady. My tender feet were wounded; And white bleeding wounds. Oh, Raise me on the Threshold And let me at the door!