The poem ras as fellows t'

• I / 1- I "TMUL SNOW.

beautiful snow,

__.

Filllng:tho,sky and the niiittilielowr

Over o bottse-tops, over the street,

Over , the heads of the people you meet;

Dancing

Flirting

Bkiratning along.

snOw,l it can, do nothing wrong.

Flying

,to kiss' a fair lady's clieeki

Clinging to lips in Q. 001ICEOMe freak. •

Ildintlfalinow, from the heaven's above,

rtirn as an angel and fickle as love!

Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow!

BOW tile flakes gather and laugh as they got --

Whirling übout in its maddening fan,

It plays in its glee with every one.

• : Chasing, •

Laughing,

8 Flurrying by,,

It lights up the face and it sparkles the eye;

And trchn the dogs, with a bark and a bound,

Snaput,the crystals that eddy around.

The town is alive, and its heart in a glow

- _To welcome the coming of-beautitul snow.

.

Row the wild crowd goes swaying-along,

Railhig each otber_with humor and song!

Row the. gay sledges 1111wketelars-flash-by— -

Bright fora moment, then.lost to the eye.

Ringing,

Dashina they go

Oier the crest of the beautiful snow:

Snow so pure when it falls from the skyy •

-To be trampled In mud by the crowd rushing by;

To be trampled and tracked by the thousands of

• feet

Tillilblends - with the-Horrible fllih in the street.

Once I was pure as the snow—but I fell; •

Fell, like the enow-fiakeis, from heaven—to hell

Fell, to be tramped as the filth of the street:

Yell, to be , scoffed, to be spit on and beat.

Pleading,

tursing,

Dreading to die,

Belling my soul 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 I was once like this beautiful snow!

Once I was fair as the beautiful snow,

With an eye like its crystals, a heart like its

glow;

-Once I was loved for my Innocent grace—

Flattered and sought for the charm of my face.

Father,

Mother,

' Sisters aU,

God, and myself, I have lost by my

The veriest wretch that goes shivering by

Will take a wide sween, lest I wander too nitrL;

Fort of all that is on or about me, I know

There is nothing that's pure but the beautiful

snow.

• Bow strange it should be that this beautiful

snow

Should fall on a sinner with nowhere to go!

flow_ strange it would be, when the night comes

again,

If the snow., and the ice struck my desperate

brain'

4 Fainting,

Freezing,

Dying alone'

- Too wicked for prayer, too weak for my moan

To be heard in the crash of the crazy town,

Gone mad in Its joy at the snow's comingsdown;

To lie and to die in my terrible woo,

With a bed and a shroud of the beautiful snow!

—There-is the poem, such as it is, an