Once I Was Pure.

Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow,

the sky and earth below;

Over the bouNefion , „ over the street, •

°ye; the heads of the people you meet,

Dancing,

Siz :ram ing along,

Beautiful snow! It can do nothing wrong

Flying to kiss n fair lady's cheek,

Clinging o 1; ps in a froliesmne freak;

Beatrt/ col snow float the Heaven above,

Pare as an:int:et, prat le as love!

Oh! the snow, toe beautiful snow,

How the flakes gather and laugh as they go!

\Vhirling about in its maddening fun,

It plays in its glee with every one;

Chasing

Laughing,

Hurrying by,

It lights up the face, and it sparkles the eye;

And even the dugs with a bark and a bound,

Snap at the crystals that eddy around ;

The town is alive, and its heart In a glow,

To welcome the coming of beautiful snow!

How the wild crowd goes swaying along,

Hailing each other with humor and song;

How the gay sledges like meteors flash by,

Bright for the moment, then lost to the eye;

Ringing,

Swinging,

Dashing they go,

Over the crust of the beautiful snow;

Snow scipure when it falls from the sky,

To be trampled in mud by the crowd rushing by ;

To be trampled and tracked by the thousands of

feet,

Till It blends with the filth in the horrible street.

Once I was pure as the snow—but I tell!

Fell like the snow flakes from Heaven to hell;

Fell to be trampled as filth of the street;

Fell to be scoffed, to be spit on and heat;

Pleading,

Cursing,

Dreading to die,

Selling 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 the beautiful snow.

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 grace—

Flattered and sought for the charms of my face;

Father,

Mother,

Sisters, all,

God, and myself I have lost by my fall;

The veriest wretch that goes shivering by

Will take a wide sweep, lest I wander too nigh;

For all that is on or above me, I know

There is nothing that's pure as the beautiful

snow.

now strange it should be that this beautiful

snow

Should fall on a sinner with nowhere logo!

How strange it should be, when the night comes

again,

If the snow and the lee struck my desperate

brain;

Fainting,

Freezing,

Dying atone;

Too wicked for prayer, too weak for moan

To be heard in the crazy town,

pone mad in the Joy of the snow coining down;

To lie and to die in my terrible woe,

'ith a bed and a shroml, of the healthful snow