Silent, soft and slow descends the Snow

And in the woods there stood two lonely desolate cabins blanketed in a layer of fresh fallen snow! The pines cast deep shadows across the vast white expanse of field. In the distance the blue and purple of a mountaintop.

Out of the bosom of the Air,

Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,

Over the woodlands brown and bare,

Over the harvest-fields forsaken,

Silent, and soft, and slow

Descends the snow.

~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow~