ice-cold

Tom fell into the ice-cold water of the river.

We waded into the cold water inch by inch.

An icy blast of wind chilled me to the bone.

Far away beyond the pine-woods, there is a little garden. There the grass grows long and deep, there are the great white stars of the hemlock flower, there the nightingale sings all night long. All night long he sings, and the cold crystal moon looks down, and the yew-tree spreads out its giant arms over the sleepers.

Her hands were as cold as ice.