The countryside in winter,
Has a wondrous rustic charm.
Everything so picturesque,
The woods, the fields and farms.
The land is blanketed in snow,
The trees in garlands, white,
That sparkle just like diamonds,
Beneath the bright moonlight.
The brook that babbles gaily,
Through the wood beneath the trees,
Is icey now but babbles yet,
And shimmers 'gainst the freeze.
All is quiet save the brook,
Through Winter's icey chill,
Until the warmth of Spring returns,
To bring the song bird's trill.