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From The Coburg Leader (Vic. : 1890 - 1913)

1894-10-20 |

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BEAUTIFUL SNOW1 Oh I the snow, the

beautiful snow 1 Filling the sky and

earth below; Over the housetops, over

the street, Over the heads of the people

you meet. Dancing, flirting, skimming

along-Beautiful snow I it can do nothing

wrong. Flying to kiss a fair lady's

cheekClinging to lips in a frolicsome

freak; Beautiful snow, from the heavens

above, Pure as an angel, gentle as love.

Oh ! the snow, the beautiful snow I How

the flakes gather and laugh as they go

Whirling about in their maddening fun;

It plays in its glee with every one.

Chasing, laughing, hurrying by, It

lights on the face and sparkles the eye;

And the dogs, with a bark and a bound,

Snap at the crystals that eddy around.

The town is alive, and it's heart's in a

glow, To welcome the comitng of the

beautiful snow. How wildly the crowd

goes swaying along, Hailing each other

with humour and song I How the gay

sledges like meteors flash by, Bright

for a moment, then lost to the

eyehIinging, swinging, dashing they go,

Over the crust of the beautiful snow;

Snow, so pure when it falls from the

sky, As to make one regret to see it

lie, To be trampled and tracked by the

thousands of feet Till it blends with

the filth of the street. Once I was pure

as the snow, but I fellFell, like the

snow flakes, from heaven to hell. Fell,

to be trampled as filth in the

streetFell, to be scolled, to be spit

on, and beat. Pleading-carsing-dreading

to die, Selling my soul to whoever

ivould 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

the beautiful snow I Once I was fair as

the beautiful snow, With an eye like its

crystal, a heart like its glow ; Once I

was loved for my innocent graceFlattered

and sought for the charms of my face.

Father, mother, sister, and all, God,

and myself, I have lost by my fall. The

veriest wretch that goes shivering by

Will make a wide swoop, lest I wander

too nigh; For all that is on or above me

I know, There's nothing so pure as the

beautiful 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 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 street of the

crazy town, Gone mad in the joy of the

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 snowSinner, despair not 1

Christ stoopeth low To rescue the soul

that is lost in its sin, And raise it to

life and enjoyment agtain. Groaning,

bleeding, dying for thee, The Crucifipd

hung on the accursed tree; His accents

of mercy fall soft on thine earIs there

mercy for me ? Will he hear my prayer?

Oh, God I In the stream that for sinners

did flow, Wash me, and I shall be whiter

than snow