For the whisp'ring wind was the cab that they
Rode in to the snowflakes' dance.
They flew over housetop, hilltop, dell,
With dances and with delight.
Though ne'er did sound of their presence tell;
Wherever their fairy footsteps fell,
All turned to a crystal white.
In the daintiest robes the trees were dressed,
That ever you'd wish to see;
The wayworn traveler, he was blessed,