Where's The Snow That Fell The Year

I'll Seek A Four Leaved Shamrock In All Thy Fairy Dells, And If I Find The Charmed Leaves, Oh, How I'll Weave My Spells!

My Hearing Has Suffered Seriously; Just Now I Am Obliged To Have The Assistance Of An Ear Trumpet. Think Of That, My Beauty! - There 's A State For Your Old Lover To Be In! - No More Tender Whisperings! Imagine Sweet Confessions To Be Made Through An Ear Trumpet!

Too Little Is It Considered, While We Gaze On Aristocratic Beauty, How Much Good Food, Soft Lying, Warm Wrapping, Ease Of Mind, Have To Do With The Attractions Which Command Our Admiration.

To Return After Long Years Of Painful Absence To Some Place Which Has Been The Scene Of Our Former Joys, And Whence The Force Of Circumstance, And Not Choice, Has Driven Us, Is Oppressive To The Heart.

Where's The Snow That Fell The Year That's Fled--where's The Snow?