A FALLEN- WOMAN'S STORY.

The Omaha Republican gives the following

history of this production, which the

Londou Spectator has pronounced the

finest poem ever written in America. 'In

the early part of the war, one dark

Saturday night in the dead of winter,

there died in the Commercial IHospital,

in Cincionati, a young woman over whose

head only two and twenty summers had

passed. She had been once possessed of

an enviable share of beauty, and had

been, as she herself says," flattered

and sought for the charms of her face,"

but alas! upon her fair brow had long

been written that terr:ble word, -- .

Once the pride of respectable parentage,

her first wrong step was the small

beginning of the same old story over and

over again, which has been the only

history of thousands. Ilighly educated

and accomplished in manners, she might

have shone in the best society. But the

evil hour that proved her ruin came, and

having spent a young life in disgrace

and shame, the poor friendless one died

the melancholy death of a broken-hearted

outcast. Among her personal'effects was

found, in 51.s., "The Beautiful Snbw,"

which was immediately carried to Enos B.

Read, :a gentleman of culture and

literary talent, and the then editor of

the National Union. : . .THE BEAUTIFUL.

SNOW. On :the snow, the beautiful snow,

Filling ,the sky and the earth below,

Over,the housetops, over the street,

Over the heads of the'people you meet:.

Dancing-flirting-skimming along..

Beautiful snow I it can do no wrong.

iFlying to kiss a fair lady's cheek;

Clingingng to lips in frolicsome freak;

Beautiful snow from heaven above, Pure

as an angel, gentle as love . Oh I the

snow, the beautiful snow, Ilow the

"flakes gather and laugh as t eyg ,;?

Whirling about in maddening tun..::'

Chasing-laughing--hurlyingh* y,`:: ' :It

lights on the ftce. and it sparkles the

'eye; And'"the dogs with a bark and a

bound Snap at the crystals as they eddy

around.. 'The town is alive and its

heart in a glow To welcome the coming of

beautiful snow .: F14i' wild the crowd

goes swaying alotig, Hailing'each other

with humour and song:i Howv the'gay

sleighs like meteors flash by, Bright

for the moment, then lost to the eye;:

Ringing-swinging-dashing they go Ovei

the:ofust of the .beautiful snow-Snow:

so pure when it falls from .the sky .":,

-To be trampled and tracked by

thousan'dstof rill it blends with the

filth in the iHstrible street. ,Once'

I?ves pure as the. snow,: but -I fell- '

Fell like thesnow, flakes-from heaven to

hell; Fell to be ,trampled as filth on

the street;"': -" Fell to. be scoffed,

to. be spit on, and beati;-.-;

SJPleading --cursing-dreading to,die ;!.

Selling my. soul to, whdever:wouldh

buay;. Dealing in shame for a morselof

bread; :. IIatibgthe living and fearing

'the- dead : i Merciful God.? have I,

fallen so low ? . And, yet,l `es once

like the beautiful snow.. OnceI :was

rfaiiasethe beaditiful snown:.. .With an

,eye like a crystal, and a heart like

its Once-;?ias loved. for my inn'ocent

grace.-Flattered land sought for the

charmsof my facel ,,Father:- mothers-

siste's !.AllI Godo and myself-I have

lost by my fall I rihe veriest wretch

thliat goes shivering by ,Will i~iki

twili' sweep' lest I waider too nigh

Fo'r alL.thtt is on or above me, I knom

There is nothing so pure as the

beautiful snowh How ;strange.t should,

be that thlis beautiful 'Sh'oula fall'

on a sinner with nowhere to go I

How.strange shouldit.be whenf the nght

co?ies If the snow and the ie stuck my

desperate Fainting-treezing-dying alone,

.: Too wicked forpraiyer,itoolvwe?k for

a moan To -,bhe.:ad.in: the streets of

the c crazy town,; Goieminiad in-the:

jdy ofi snbw:'oimrginng.d ii' 1 be;nfid

t9 hlif s ,osy terrille ,woe,, ; With a

bed and ashroud of the beautiful snow.,

Helpless and foul as the trampled snow,

Sinner, despair not ! Christ stoopeth

low To rescue the soul that is lost in

its sin, And raise it to lite and

enjoyment again Groaning-bleeding-dying

for thee, The Crucified hung on the

cursed tree! IIis accents of mercy fall

soft on thine ear, " Is there mercy for

me? Will he heed my weak prayer ?" O God

; in the stream that for sinners did

flow, Wash me, and I shall be whiter

than snow I For a long time the