her

first . wrop'g stop- wa» the eniall

beginning of the ' sumo did utory over .

again,' which has. heen tho only life-

history of thuUnaudn. Highly cilucaUnl

and accomplishqd in liiaiiunni, shu

might liave Hhniiom tho Ixui't of

society, lint thu evil hour that proved

her ruin wa« but the door from childhood

; and having npent a young life in

shame, the piwr friendless one died the

, melancholy death of a brokenhearted

outcast. ? ?? „ -. ?'.??'. i '?'. Among

her iwruonal effects was. found, , in

manuscript, tho. 'Beautiful Show,' which

was immediately carried to Enoa B. Rood,

a gentleman of cnltnre and litorary

tnatcB, who wob at that timo editor of

tho National Union. In tho columns

afthat paper, on the morning following^

tho girl's death, tho poem appeared

in,print for tjip first time. Whon.

tho^apcr containing tho poem camo out on

Sunday morning, the body of

?fe.-.H«fe.A5iLj°t.yet rceoivpd burial.

. Tho attention of Thomas buohanan Rood,

omToffnT jiiQy nuiunuau 2wuu]i was soon

aircctcd'to tho nowly publish'od linos,'

who was bo taken with thoir stirring,

pathos, that ho immediately followed tho

corpso to ita ^ final resting plaoo.

Such aro tho plain facts concerning her

whoso 'Beautiful Snow' will long ho

regarded as ono of tho brightost goms in

American literature. ? Oh! tho snow, tho

beautiful snow.' .Filling-thosky.and-

earth.holow,_, ? :' ' ? Over this

housetops, over the street, Over tho

heads of tho pooplo you moot; . _

Dancing— Flirtinii!— Skimminc alone.

Beautiful snowl it can d.o no wrong ; .

Flyingto kiss a fair lady's cheok, ?

Clinging to lipsin frplicsomo freak;'

??' -. Beautiful snow from heaven abovo,

Puro as an angel, gontlo as lovo ! -Oh !

tho buow, tho beautiful snow. ' How tho

flakes gather and laugh as they go,

-Whirling about-in maddening fun-; ? '.

? ; ? - ? Z JJiMingrzrteghmg^Hurrying

by. ^ - '' It lights on tho face, and it

sparkleiilfo'eyb~j — And tho dogs with a

bark and a bound Snap at tho crystals as

they eddy around j . Tho towpis alive

and ita heart in a-glow, ?''' To

wdlcoShe the coming of beautiful bhow I

How. wild tho crowd £ocs swaying along,

Hailing each other with humor and song ;

How tho gay sleighs liko moteors Hash

by, ? Bright for the moment, then lost

to tho oyo ; . . ' Ringing— Swincing—

Dashing thoy go . Jvor tho crust of

tholwaiitiful snoy ; Snow so puro wheii

it falls from tho sky, To be trampled

and tracked bythousands of -feet,-'

Tillit blends with the filth in tho

horrible street. jnco i was as puro as

the snow, but.I fell, ? Foil liko the

snow Hakes from heaven to hell ; Fell to

bo trampled as filth on tho street, Fell

to bo scoffed, to bo spit on and beat ;

' ' Pleading— Cursing— Dreodingtodio, '?

? Soiling my soiil to whoover would buy

; . ? Dealing in shamo for a morsel of

broad, Hating tho living and fearing tho

doad . Morciful God, hatfe I fallen so

low? And yet I was onco liko the

beautiful snow. Onco I was fair as the

beautiful snow, With an oyo liko a

erystal,.a heart like its glow; Onco I

was loved for my innocent grace — ?-.

tattered and SQiigth for tliocharms of

my face ! Fathers— Mothers— Sisters,

all, God and mysolf I have lost by my

fall ; Tho veriest wretch that

goes.jhivering by Will make a wide

swceploBt I wander too nigh; For all

that in on or. abovo- mo I know, - ? ?

.. ? There is nothing so puro as tho.

beautiful snow. HoiiWango it should bo

that this beautiful snow Should fall on

a sinner with nowhere to go I 'How

strange it should bo when tho night .

comes again, . If tho snow and tho ico

struck my desporato brain. Fainting—

Freezing— Dying alone, Too wicked for

prayer, too weak for a moan To bo hoard

in the streets of tho orazy town, Gono

mad in the joy of snow coming down ; To

be and to die in my torriblo woo, ?with

a hod arid a shroud of tho beautiful

snow. Helpless and foul as tho tramplod

snow, Sinner,' despair not 1 Christ

stbopcth low, To rescue tho soul that

lost in sin, And raise it to life and

onjoymont again. Groaning— Blooding—

Dying for thooj The crucified hung- on

tho cursed treo ! His accents, of mercy

fell soft on. thine oar, ?. -' Is thoro

morcy for mo ? Will ho hood my weak

prayer?' 0 God ! in tho stream that for

sinners did flow,Wash me, and I shall bo

whitor than snow