Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow.
His breath like silver arrows pierced the air, The naked earth crouched shuddering at his feet, His finger on all flowing waters sweet Forbidding lay--motion nor sound was there:-- Nature was frozen dead,--and still and slow, A winding sheet fell o'er her body fair, Flaky and soft, from his wide wings of snow.
Up rose the wild old winter-king, And shook his beard of snow; "I hear the first young hard-bell ring, 'Tis time for me to go! Northward o'er the icy rocks, Northward o'er the sea, My daughter comes with sunny locks: This land's too warm for me!"
It snowed and snowed, the whole world over, Snow swept the world from end to end. A candle burned on the table; A candle burned.
In the bleak midwinter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow, Snow on snow, In the bleak midwinter, Long ago.
The only way I'd worry about the weather is if it snows on our side of the field and not theirs.
Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with the breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't fill your thoughts, that's your best season.
Spring comes with flowers, autumn with the moon, summer with the breeze, winter with snow. When idle concerns don't fill your thoughts, that's your best season.
No snowflake ever falls in the wrong place.