As Winter’s night now slowly wanes,
From England’s white covered plains
I gaze o’er deep snow’s magic realms
Tall Pine trees and majestic Elms.
Upon once virgin snowy hills
I see where skiers had their spills
Scars, show black toboggan run
Where children all have had their fun.
Someone has built a snowman tall,
and hear the children scream and call.
Hear choral choirs now softly sing,
And village church bells proudly ring.