Oh! Ihe snow, the

beautiful snow, Filling the sky -and

earth below, Over the housetops, over

the street, Owr the heada of the people

you meet-^ Beautiful snow! it can do no

wrong, Flyinjr to kiss a fair ladv's

cheek. Clinging to lips in frolicsome

freak, Beautiful snow from heaven above,

Pure as an angel, gentle as lo?e! Oh!

the snow, the beautiful snow, How the

flakes gather and huigh as they fo,

?Whirling about in maddening fun. It

plays in its glee with every oneChasing—

laughing— hurrying byIt lights on the

face, and it spaftles the eye; And the

dogs with a bark ind a bound Snap at the

crystals as they eddy round. The town is

alive, and its' heart U aglow, To

welcome the coniinj of beautiful t-now!

How wild the crowd goes swaying along,

Hailing each other with huracxir and

song; How the gay fleighs like meteors

flash by, bright for a moment, then lost

to the eye; RingBig— swinging— dashing

they go, Over the crust of the beautiful

snowSnow so pure when it falls from the

sky, To be trampled in mud by tbe crowd

parsing by, To be trampled and tracked

by thousands of feet, Till it blends

with the faith in the horrible street.

Once I was pore like tho enow, but I

felltell like the snow— but irom heaven

to neil; Fell to be trampled as filth of

the street, Fell to be scoffed, to be

spit on and beat; Pleading— cursing—

dreading to die. Selling my soul to

whoever would buy; Dealing in shame for

a morsel of braid, Hating the living,

and fearing the dcij. Merciful God! have

I (alien so low? And yet I waa once lite

the beautiful siow. Once I waa fair as

the beautiful mow, With an eye like a

crystal, a heart like its glow; Once I

was loved for my innocent gran?,

Flattered and sought for the e-hanas of

my face; Father— mother— id sters— 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 all that is on or about

me, 1 know, There is nothing that's pure

as the b«aoti(ul snow. How strange it

thonld be that this beautiful snow

Should fall on a EimiLr with nowhere to

go! How strange it should be, when the

night comes again, K the mow and tlie

ice struck my despsrate brain, If

fainting, freezing, dying alone, Too

wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan

To be heard in the streets of tlie crazy

town (Gone mad in the joy of ttie Enow

coining down), I fhould lie down and

.lie in my terrible wue, With a bed and

a. shroud of the beautiful snow. Helplea

and foul as the trampled snow, Sinner

despair not! Christ stoopcth low ' To

rescue the eduI that id lost in 'fin, To

raise it to life ajid eijwn'ent again,

Groaning— bleeding — dying ror thee,

Tlie Crucified hun? on the curbed tree!

His accents of pity fall soft on thine

ear; 'la 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