She could not have

been all bad when these lines were

written:— THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW. Oh! the

snow, the beautiful snow, Filling the

eky and the earth below 3 Over the

housetops, over the street, Over the

heads of the people you meet, Dancing,

flirting, skimming along; Beautiful

snow! it can do nothing wrong; Flying to

kiss a fair lady's cheek, Clinging to

lips in frolicsome freak; Beautiful snow

from the heavens 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 on the face and

sparkles the eye, And the dogs, with a

bark and a bound, Snap at the crystals

that 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, Trailing each

other with humour and song! How the gay

sledges like meteors flash by, Bright

for a moment, then lost to the eye;

Singing, swinging, dashing they go, Over

the cruet of the beautiful snow— Snow so

pure when it falls from the sky As to

make 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, to be spit

on and beat, f leading, cursing,

dreading to die, Selling my soul to

whoever would buy; Dealing in shame for

a morsel of bread, TTatang 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

its ciystal, a heart like its glow; Once

I was loved for my innocent grace—

Flattered and sought for the charms of

my face; Father, mother, sister and all,

God and myself, I have lost by my fall;

The veriest wretch that goes shivering

by Will make a wide swoop, lest I wander

too nigh; For all that is on or above me

I know There's nothing so pore 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 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 street 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 fonl as

the trampled snow, Sinner, despair not!

Christ stoopeth low To rescue the soul

that is lost in its sin, And raise it to

life and enjoyment again. Groaning,

bleeding, dying for thee, The crucified

hung on the accursed tree, His accents

of mercy fall soft on thine ear. Is

there mercy for me P Will he heed my

prayer ? Oh, God! in the stream that for

sinners did flow, Wash me, and I shall

be whiter than snow.