When the moon on a winter night's streaming
on a world wrapped in blankets of snow,
when its beams set each crystal to gleaming
and each ice-covered branch is aglow,
it is then I awake from my dreaming
to partake of this mystical show.

When the snow in the wind starts aswirling
till the sky is a flurry of white,
when the stars become lost in the whirling
and the trees soon are hid from my sight,
it is then back in bed I'll be curling
to keep warm for the rest of the night.