Oh t the

mow, the beautiful snow, Filling the sky

and the earth below t Over the

housetops, over the street, Over the

heads of people you meet, Dancing-

flirting-skimming along, Beautiful snow

! it can do no wrong. Flying to kiss a

fair lady's cheek, Clinging to lips in

frolicsome freak; Beautiful snow, from

heaven above, Pure as an angel, gentle

as love. Oh ! the snow, the beautiful

snow, How the flakes gather and laugh as

they go; Whirling about in their

maddening fun, It plays in its glee with

every one; Chasing-laughing-hurrying by,

It lights up the face 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. How wildly the crowd

goes swaying along, Hailing each other

with humour and song; How the gay

sleighs like meteors flash by, Bright

for a moment, then lost to the eye.

Kinging-swinging-dashing they go, Over

the crust of the beautihil snowSnow so

pure when it falls from the sky As to

makd'one regret to see it lie, To be

trampled and tracked by the thousands of

feet, Till it blends with the filth in

the horrible street. Once I was pure as

the snow-but I fell! Fell like the

snowflakes from heaven to hell, Fell to

be trampled as filth in the street, Fell

to be scoffed, spit on, and beat.

Pleading-cursing-dreading to die ;

Selling my soul to whoever would buy;

Dealing in shame for a morse1 of bread,

Hating the living and fearing the dead.

Merciful God, have I fallen so low. And

yet I was once like the beautiful snow.

Once I was fair as the beautiful snow,

With an eye like a crystal and a heart

like its glow; Once I was loved for my

innocent grace, Flattered and sought for

the charms of my face! Father, mother,

and sisters all, God and myself, I have

lost by my fall; The veriest wretch that

goes shivering by Will make a wide sweep

lest I wander too nigh. For ail that is

on or before me, I know There's nothing

so pure as the beautiful snow. How

strange it should be that this beautiful

snow Should fall on a sinner with

nowhere to go ! How strange it should be

when the night comes again If the snow

and the ice struck my desperate brain !

Fainting-freezing-dying alone ! Too

wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan

To be heard in the streets of the crazy

town, Gone mad in the joy of the snow

coming down! To be and to die in my

terrible woe, With a bed and a shroud of

the beautiful snow. Helpless and foul as

the trampled snow, Sinner, despair not!

Christ Btoopeth low To rescue the soul

that is lost in its sin, And to raise it

to life and enjoyment again; Groaning-

bleeding-dying for thee, The Crucified

hung on the accursed tree ! HiB accents

of mercy fell soft on thine ear. Is

there mercy for me? Will He heed my weak

prayer ? Oh God ! in the stream that for

sinners did flow, Wash me and I shall be

whiter than snow.