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From The Cornwall Chronicle (Launceston, Tas. : 1835 - 1880)

1860-06-23 |

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(art!. l)-lo.v | Over tbc houio tops,

ovur tlit* ulrDul^ Over the licads of

the people yuu uii-ct. Dancing,

Hlrlini-, Slimming along, llcautlful

snow Mt can do nothing won;, I'lyius lo

kUs a fair lady's dn:ft, Cllot-ln» to

lipi iu a Irolicsomi- frtak, IJeiutlful

snow froai the Heaven nbovc, l'uro as &Q

aaj^cl a^ ^eQtlu as love ! Oh '. the

Enow the beautiful mon-, lluw tho

Ihilics t-atlier and laugh M they go !

Whlrllne about In Its rnadili'nln); lun,

It plays In IU glee with every uae,

Chaslns, Laugliln^, llorryinp by, It

lights up U10 face, and It ipirkles the

e\v '. And even the dogs n-Hli a bark

and a bound, Snap at the crystals that

eddy ivouod, The town Is allvu and IU

heart In a glow, To welcome the coming

or beautiful know. How Uic wild crowd

goes swuylng along, Hailing each other

with boauly and son- I How U10 gay

sledges, like meteors flash by. Bright

for the moment then lost to tbe eyo ;

Hinging, Swlngloc, Dashing ilicy go.

Over the crust of the beautiful snow ;

Blow so pure when It falls from tho sky.

To be trampled In mod by the crowd

rushlne by. To be trampled and trackoJ

t-y the lliousandsof feet, Till It

blends iu tbe fiUh of U10 horrible

street. Once I was nnre as the snow-but

1 fell ! 1 oil lite the snow Hakes f.om

Heaven to Hell ; l'ell to b» tiampled as

tilth In Lhe street ; Fell In be

scoffed, to be [pit on and beat ;

Pleading, Cursing, Dreading to die,

Selling my soul to whoever would buy.

Dealing In sliamo for a morsel of bread,

Mirclful God ham 1 fallen solow ! And

yet I was once like tbe boautlful enow.

Once 1 was fair as the beautiful snow.

With an eye like the crystal a heart

like Its glow nattered and sought for

tbc charms of my face; 1-ather, Mother,

Bisters all, God, and myself, I Imve

lost by my full ; The veriest mi-tali

lhat goes shivering by ; Will lake a

vide sweep lest I wander too olsh, Pnr

all ttiat is on or above me, I kuow,

There la noLhlng so pure as the

beautiful snow. How strange It sbculd bo

that this beautiful snow Should fall on

a sinner with nowhere to go ! Huw

ttrangc it should be when the

nlghtcoincs again, If the snow and Ibc

Ice struck uiy desperate braiu,

Fainting, I'reezin-, Dying alone, Too

wicked for prayer, too weak for my moan

To b: heard in thB crazy town, To lie

and to die in my terrible woe, With abed

and a Ehrond of tbc teiutlfu! snow