As the smoke twirls from the chimneys,
like weeds beneath the sea,
The houses look as finical
as baubles on a tree.


For tiny diamonds sparkle on
each little pane of glass,
And in the garden frost is piped
on every blade of grass.


While snowflakes twirl like candied flowers
and flutter all around,
The snow lies like an ermine cloak
upon the frozen ground.


In ferny trees of crystal bright,
beneath an opal moon,
The hoary-feathered owls sit
and flute their spectral tune.


And then inside a carriage as
she takes her night-time ride,
Appears the Snow-Queen, thin and wan,
her goblins at her side.

She has a wedge of swans to pull
her carriage through the air,
And there she sits in twinkling robes
with snowflakes in her hair.


She flies above the spindly spires
all powdered pearly-white,
Then, passing with her frigid stare,
she melts into the night