Tt9 Beautiful 'Snow, At the request of

several of my readers I publish the

following : Oh ! the snow, the beautiful

snow, Filling the sky and earth below,

Orer the housetops, over the street,

Over the heads of the people you meet,

Dancing, Whirling, Skimming Along.

Beautiful snow 5 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 maddening fun ; Chasing —

Laughing — Hurr yi n g by, '' : It

lights on 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 wild the crowd

goes swaying along, Hailing each other

with buinor and song ; How the gay

fileighs. like meteors flash |by, Bright

for the moment, then lost to the oyc.

Ringing — Swinging — Das h in g they go,

Over the orust of the beautiful snow ;

Snow so pure wben it falls from ,the

sky, ' ' ' To be trampled and tracked by

thousands of feet, Till it blends with

the filth in the horrible street. Once I

was pure as the snow, but I feU— Fell,

like tho snow-flakes, from Heaven to

Hell! Fell, to be trampled, a« filth on

the street, ' Fell,- to be scoffed, to

be epit on and beat ; Pleading —

Cursing— Dreading to die, Selling my

.sowl to whoever would buy ; Dealing in

shame for a morsel of. bread, ^ Hating,

tlie living and fearing the ?dead.

.Merciful God, ham- 1 fallen so low ?

And yet 1 was. once. like tho '

beautiful snow. ? ' Once I was fair as

the' beautiful snow, With sin eye like a

crystal, a heart like itB-elow ; . -?

Once I was loved, for my innocent grace

— Flattered and sought, for the charms

of my face ! Fathers — Mothers —

Sisters: — all, God and myself I have

lost by my fall ; The veriest wretch

that goes shivering ' by . .'?' Will

jpake a wide sweep lestl wander too nigh

; For all that is on or above me, I

know, There is nothing so pure as the

beaatiful 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 tho enow and the ice

struck my dospernto brain. F a i n t j n

g— 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 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

stoopeth low '»? To rescue the soul that

is lost in sin, And raise it to life and

enjoyment again. Groaning— Bleeding —

Dying for thee, . . The Crucified hung

on the Cursed Tree ; ;.-???? His accents

of- mercy fell soft on thine ear.

'-??'?? 'Is there mercy for ine? Will He

heed my weak prayer ? ' Oh, God! in flic

stream that, for Dinners did flow, . . '

Wnsh me, and I (shall be whiter than

Snow.