I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn Where a little headstone stood; How the flakes were folding it gently, As did robins the babes in the wood. Up spoke our own little Mabel, Saying, "Father, who makes it snow? The Natural Speller and Word Book - Sivu 48tekijä(t) S. Kupfer - 1890 - 166 sivuaKoko teos
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Ken Tate, Janice Tate - 2001 - 160 sivua
...Chanticleer's muffled crow, e stiff rails were softened to swan's-down, And still fluttered down the snow. stood and watched by the window The noiseless work...flurries of snow-birds, Like brown leaves whirling by. I thought of a mound in sweet Aubu Where a little headstone stood; How the flakes were folding it gently....