‘Twas four in the morning, and all through the flat
Not a creature was stirring, ‘cept myself, as I sat.
Agneta was dozing, so deep in her sleep,
And I rose to the window, just for a peep.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But fresh-fallen snow, the first of the year!
1 comment:
It doesn't snow in London!
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