Whirling, swirling

They sang Ma's favorite, "There is a Happy Land Far, Far Away."  And just before Pa laid the fiddle in its box becasue the time had come when he must get tot he stable and take care of the stock, he played a gallant, challenging tune that brought them all to their feet, and they all sang lustily,

"Then let the hurricane roar!
It will the sooner be o'er.
We'll weather the blast
And land at last
On Canaan's happy shore!"

The hurricane was roaring, the icy snow was hard as buckshot and fine as sand was whirling, swirling, beating upon the house."

Laura Ingalls Wilder, The Long Winter