BEAUTIFUL SNOW A PATHETIC POEM. The

following touching poem is supposed to

have heen written by an unfortunate

homeless girl, on tbe streets of New

York. Oh ! the snow, the beautiful snow

! Filling the sky and the earth below ;

Over the housetops over the street, Over

the hears of the people you meet,

Dancing, flirting, skimming along —

Heautiful snow, il can do nothing wrong.

Flying to kiss a fair lady's cheek —

Clinging to lips in a frolicsome freak :

Beautiful snow, from the heavens above.

Pure as an angel, gentle as love. Oh I

the snow, the beautiful snow! How the

flakes gather and laugh as tbey go,

Whirling about in their maddening fun ;

It plays in its glee with every one.

Chasing, laughing, hurrying by. H lights

on the face, and sparkles the eye; And

the dogs, with a bark and many a bound,

Snan at the crystals that eddv around.

The town is alive, and it's heart's in a

plow; To welcome tbe coming of the

beautiful How wildly the crowd goes

swaying along, Hailing each oiher with

humor and song ; How the gay sledges

like meteors flash by, Bright for a

moment, then lost to the eyeRinging,

swinging, dashing they go. Over the

crusl of the beautiful snow ; Snow, so

puie when it falls from the sky, As lo

make ooe regret to sec it thus lie, To

be trampled and tracked by thousands of

feet. Till it blends with tile fillh of

the gay busy street. Once I was pure as

Ihf? snow, but I fell — Fell like the

snowflak«s, from heaven to hell, Fell to

be trampled like filth in the streetFell

to be scoffed at, spat on and beat.

Pleading— cursing— dreading to die,

Stilling my soal to whoever would buy ;

Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread.

Hating the living, and fearing the dead

! Merciful God, have I fallen so low ?

And yet 1 was once like tbe beautiful

snow. Once I was fair as the beautiful

mow, Withaueje like a crystal, a heart

Hie its glow ; Once I was lored for my

innocent grace — Flattered and nought

for the charms of my i-'ather, 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 wandered For all Lhat is

on or before me I know, There's nothing

so pure as the beautiful How strange it

should be that this beautiful Should

fall on a sinner, with nowhere to g° ;

How strange it should be when night

comes again. If the snow and the ice

struck my desperate brain ! Fainting,

freezing, dying alone, Toe wicked for

prayer, too weak for a To be heard in

tbe street of the craty t'one mail iu

the joy of tbe snow coming down ; To ba

ana to die in my terrible woe, With abed

and a shroud ol the beautiinl Helpless

and foul as the trampled snow, Sinner,

despair not ! Christ stoopeth low ; To

rescuc the soul that is lost in its sin.

And raise it to life and enjoyment

again, Groaning, bleeding, dying for

thee, Tne Crucified hung on the accursed

tree ; Ilis' accents of mercy fall soft

on thine ear — Is there mercy forme?

Will He hear my poor prayer ? Oh, God !

In the stream that for sinners did flow,

Wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow