There i

Witi II W Si

There is nothing that s pure but the beauti-

ful snow

How strange it should be thatMhis beautiful

snow T ■ v

Should fall on a sinner with nowhere to go

How strange it would be when th e night

comes again

If the snow and the ice struck my d esperate

brain

Fainting „ «

Freezing Dying alone

Too wieked for prayer too weak for my

moan

To be heard in the crash of the crazy town

Gone mad in their joy of the snow s coming

down

To lie and die in my terrible woe

With a bed and a shroud of the beautiful

snow