Oh ! the snow,

the he£utiful snow, : ? Pilling the

strand earth below, ? Over the

housdtopst'jpvBr.tliS street; ??-?«. ..

.-,.?_ Over the heads of the people you

meet; , Dancing— Flirting— Skimming

along. I Beautiful 'snow 1 it can do no

wrong ; ,, Flying to kiss a &ir lady's

cheek, : \ ? Ounging to lips in

frolicseme freak ; . Beautiful snow from

heaven above, Pure be an angel, gentle

as love! ? Oh I the snow, the beautiful

snow, : ? How the flakes gather and

laugh «s they go, ? Whirling about in

maddening fun ; ? . Chasing—

Laughihg-^Hurrying by. If lights on the

face, and it sparkles the eye ; ? Ana

tbe dogs witn a Dart and a bonna ; ,8nap

at the orratalsaa they eddy around; ,

The town is alive und itE, heart in a

glow, . Te welcome the coming of

beautiful snow 1 ; Eow wild the crowd

goes swaying along, . Hailing each other

with humour and song; -?Howthegay

sleighs like meteors 'flash by, . '-'

Bright for tne moment, then loBt to the

eye ;,' . Ringing— Swinging— Dashing

they go Over the crust 'of the beautiful

snow ;? . - ' , . ; (Snow to pure when

it &l)s from the sky. .. . To be

trampelled and tracked by thousands of

feet, ; Till it blends' with the filth

in the horrible street. ' Once I was

pure -a the anow, but I fell, . . .. '

F«U like the'snow flakes from hbaren te

ntll ; ' ' Fell'to be trampled as filth

on the street, ' '' ? : Fell to be

scoSed, to baepiton, ,and beat; .

Pleading— Cursing— Dreiding to dU, -

-Selling iny soul to wh6ev«r would; buy

;' Dealing in shame for a Morwl of

bread. Bating the living and fearing the

dead. Merciful God, have I fallen so low

t And yet I was once like the beautiful

snow. , TJnce I was lair be the

beautiful snow, With an eye like a.

crystal, a heart like its flow ; Once

I:was loved for my innocent grace—

Flattered and sought for the charms of

my faoe 1 . Fathers— Mothers— Sisters,

all, God and myself I have lost by my

fell : Tie verieBt wretch that goes

shivering by Will make a wide sweep lest

1 wander too nigh ; For all that is on

or above me I know, ' There is nothing

bo pure as the beautiful mow. How

strange it should be that this beautiful

anew Should fall on a sinner with

nowhere to go! '' SDovrstrange it should

be when the night comes again, If the

snow and the ice struck my desperate

brain, . Fainting— 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 ofthe beautiful sa»w. ' Helpless

and foul as the trampled snow, Sinner

despair not! Christ stoopeth low To

rescue the soul that is lost m si&. And

raise it to life and enjoyment again.

Groaning— Bleeding— Dying for thee, The

Crucified huhfc on the cursed tree ! His

accent! of mercy fell soft on thine ear,

' ' 'Is there mercy* for me] .Will He

heed my weak prayer!' OOodl in the

otream that for sinners did flow, Wash

me, and I shall be whiter than snow