Who sends the white and feathery snow
From yonder inky cloud?
Its gentle flakes fall soft and slow
Till shrubs and flowers shroud.
Dear children, He who made the snow,
And sends it from the sky,
Is God, who to us long ago
Sent Jesus here to die.
And by His blood our souls are made,
Ah! whiter than the snow;
Thus speaks His Word, and what’s there said
It true, we fully know.