, FA.

T n E SNOW.

[Since the publication of the ‘'Bridge of

Sighs," by Hood, wo have soon nothing equal

to the following poem in point of smooth ver­

sification, flowing rhythm and touching pa­

thos. Tho plaintive wail of a woman's lost

honor will bring tears to every sensitive

broast:]

Oh 1 the snow, tho beautiful Snow !

Filling tho sky and oartli below ;

Over tho housetops, over tho street,

Over tho bonds of the people you moot.

Dancing,

Flirting,

Skimming along;

Beautiful snow ! it can do no wrong 1

Flying to kiss a fair lady’s cheek,

Clinging to lips in a frolicsome freak ;

Beautiful snow from tho heaven above,

Pure as an angel, gentle as love !

Oh 1 the snow, tho beautiful snow 1

How the flakes gather and laugh as they go

Whirling about in tho maddening fun !

It plays in its glee with every one,

Chasing,

Laughing,

Hurrying by,

It lights on the face and it sparkles tho oye ;

And tho dogs, with a bark and a bound,

Snap at the crystals that eddy around.

The town is alive, and its heart iu a glow

To welcome tho coming of beautiful snow !

How wild the crowd "ocs swaying along,

Hailing oaeh other with humor and song I

How the gay sledges, Uko meteors, flash by,

Bright for the moment, then lost to tho eye I

Hinging,

Swinging,

Dashing they go,

Over the crust of tho beautiful snow—

Snow so pure when it falls from tho sky,

To bo trampled in mud by tho. crowd rush­

mg by—

To bo trampled and tracked by the thou-

sands of foot,

Q.ill it blonds with the filth in tho horrible

street.

Onoo I was pure as tho snow —but I fell 1

Pell, like the snowllakea, from heaven to hell,

Pell, to bo trampled ds tilth in tho street;

Poll, to bo scoffed, to bo spit on and beat;

Pleading,

■ Cursing,

Drending to die,

Selling my soul to whoever would buy ;

Dealing in shame fet a morsel of bread,

Hating the living and fearing tho dead.

Merciful God I have I fallen so low ?

And yot I was once like tho beautiful snow.

Once I was fair as tho beautiful snow.

With an eye Uko tho crystal, a heart like its

glow;

Onoe I was loved for my innocent grace—

Flattered and sought for the charms of my

face 1

Father,

Mother,

Sisters, all,

God and myself Iv’o lost by my fall;

The veriest wretch that gooa shivering by

Will make a wide swoop lost I wander too

nigh ;

For all that is on or above me, I know,

There’s nothing that’s pure as the beautiful

snow.

How strange it should be that this beautiful

snow

Should fall on a sinner with nowhere tu go !

How strange it should be, when the night

comes again,

If the snow and the ice struck my desperate

brain 1

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 tho snow coming

down

To mo, and so die in my terriblo woo,

With a bed and a shroud of tho beautiful

snow.