"His breath like silver arrows pierced the air, The naked earth crouched shuddering at his feet, His finger on all flowing waters sweet Forbidding lay—motion nor sound was there:— Nature was frozen dead,—and still and slow, A winding sheet fell o'er her body fair, Flaky and soft, from his wide wings of snow."
January 1, 1970
https://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Winter