White are the far off plains and white The fading forests grow The wind dies out along the height And denser still the snow A gathering weight on roof and tree Falls down scarce audibly The meadows and far sheeted streams Lie still without a sound Like some soft minister of dreams The snow fall hoods me round In wood and water, earth and air A silence everywhere <♪> Save when at lonely intervals Some farmer's sleigh urged on With rustling runner and sharp bells Swings by me and is gone Or from the empty waste I hear A sound remote and clear The barking of a dog, or call To cattle, sharply pealed Borne, echoing from some wayside stall Or barnyard far afield Then all is silent and the snow falls Settling soft and slow <♪> The evening deepens and the grey Folds closer earth and sky The world seems shrouded far away Its noises sleep and I as secret as Yon buried stream plod dumbly on and dream I dream I dream I dream I dream I dream I dream I dream I dream