"0 bileag-geal,
O bileag-na-Toscuil, bileag Pharais,
O tha e boidheachi
Tha e boidheach!"

In Polar noons when moonshine glimmers, And the frost-fans whirl, And whiter than moonlight the ice-flowers grow, And the lunar rainbow quivers and shimmers, And the Silent Laughers dance to and fro, A stooping girl As pale as pearl Gathers the frost-flowers where they blow: And the fleet-foot fairies smile, for they know The Weaver of Snow. And she climbs at last to a berg set free, That drifteth slow: And she sails to the edge of the world we see: And waits til the wings of the north wind lean Like an eagle's wings o'er a lochan of green, And the pale stars glow On berg and floe... Then down on our world with a wild laugh of glee She empties her lap full of shimmer and sheen. And that is the way in a dream I have seen The Weaver of Snow.