“Over the river, and through the wood,
To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way,
To carry the sleigh,
Through the white and drifted snow.”

— Lydia Maria Child

The New England Boy's Song About Thanksgiving Day http://www.potw.org/archive/potw64.html, st. 1, from Flowers for Children (1844-1846). <br class="br">1840s

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Lydia Maria Child34

American abolitionist, author and women's rights activist 1802–1880

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Percy raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? To Grandmother's house we go?"
Frank cleared his throat. "Yeah, anyway.”

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“Announced by all the trumpets of the sky
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“I used to be Snow White, but I drifted.”

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“Jingle bells, Jingle bells,
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Usually misquoted as "Oh! what fun it is to ride"
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“Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
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St. 1
Source: Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening (1923)

“Our words go beyond the moon.
Our words go into the shadows.
The river sings the endlessness.
We write of our journey through night.
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Who knows what time will not tell us?”

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“The beauty of the forests of Indiana in the rich and lovely month of May surpasses all description. The rivers, swollen by the rains, flow through long lanes of verdure, caressing the islands they seem to carry with them in their course and which look like floating nosegays. The trees raise their straight trunks to the height of more than a hundred and twenty feet and are crowned with tops of admirable beauty. The magnolia, the dog-wood, the catalpa, covered with white flowers, the permed snow of the springtime, intermingle with the delicate green of the other trees.”

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Source: The Hero With a Thousand Faces

“Herod, God! - all young Poland 's given into Herod's hands. What do I see? Long white roads like stations of the cross, long roads unseen through ancient forests, through the snow, all roads leading North. There, there, to the far country, they float like rivers.”

Adam Mickiewicz book Dziady

Herod - Panie cała Polska młoda wydana w ręce Heroda. Co widzę? Długie białe dróg krzyżowych biegi, Drogi długie - nie dojrzeć - przez puszcze - przez śniegi, Wszystkie na północ! Tam, tam, w kraj daleki, płyną jak rzeki <br class="br">Part three, scene 5. <br class="br">Dziady (Forefathers' Eve) http://www.ap.krakow.pl/nkja/literature/polpoet/mic_fore.htm

“Over the river, and through the wood,To grandfather's house we go;The horse knows the way,To carry the sleigh,Through the white and drifted snow.”

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Lydia Maria Child34

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“Over the river, and through the wood,
To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way,
To carry the sleigh,
Through the white and drifted snow.”