The more it snows
(Tiddely pom),
The more it goes
(Tiddely pom),
How cold my toes... A A Milne

...see the fluffy horses feeding at the troughs in the field, scattering their hay on the trodden yellow snow; watch the miners troop home - small, black figures trailing slowly in gangs across the white field. Then the night came up in dark blue vapour from the snow.
.....The snowflakes, suddenly arriving on the window-pane, clung there a moment like swallows, then were grone, and a drop of water was crawling down the glass.  The snowflakes whirled round the corner of the house, like pigeons dashing by.  Away across the valley the little black train crawled doubtfully over the great whiteness. 

An un-Australian indulgence. By Lawrence.