It repeats itself never—not in two rosebuds, not in two snowflakes.
The snowflakes clung to her hair and blew against her soft cheeks.
An icy wind was blowing, and the snowflakes were whirling through the air.
Snowflakes fell steadily and melted against the white cheeks.
The spirit of the sky was listening, and he said, 'We call them snowflakes.'
He turned to say good-by, ...