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BEAUTIFUL SNOW.

Oh the snow, tho beautiful snow.

Killing the sky and e.uth below,

Over the hotlictopi, over tho aim!,

Over tho heads of tho people ytm meet;

Dancing -Flirting Skimming along,

Beautiful snow ! it can do no vv mug;

Hying to kiss a fair lady's cheek,

Clinging to lip in frolicsome freak;

Beautiful snow fiom heaven nbovc,

I'liio as an angel, gentle n love 1

Oh I the snow, tho beautiful snow,

How the Hikes gather and laugh i'S they go,

Whirling about in maddiiiiiig tun;

Chasing -1 .aiwhing Hurrying by.

It lights on the face, nnd it spaikles the eye;

And the dogs with a bark and a bound

Snap at the crystals as they eddy around.

The town is alivo mid its hetrt in aglow,

To welcome tho coining of beautiful snow.

How wild the crowd goes swaying along,

Hailing each other with humor and song;

How tno gay sleighs like meteors flash by,

Bright for the moment, then lost to the eye;

Kinging Swinging -Dashing they go

Over tho crust of the Wautiful snow'-;

Snow as pure when it falls from theaky,

To ho trampled and tracked by thousands of

feet,

Till it blends with tho tilth in the horrible

street.

Once I was as pure s tho snow, but I fell,

Fell like the snow-flakes from heaven to hell;

Fell to be trampled as tilth on the street,

Fell to be seofleil, to bo spit on. and lieat;

Pleading Cursing Dreading to die,

Selling my soul to whoever would buy;

Dealing in shame for a tnoisel of bread,

Hating the living and fearing the dead,

Merciful God. have I fallen so low ?

Aud yet I was once like the beautiful snow.

Hon- strange it ihould bo that this beautiful

snow­

Should fall ou a sinner with nowhere to go!

How strange it should Ihj when night comes

again,

If the snow and the ice struck my desperate

brain,

Fainting Kreexing Dying alone,

Too wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan

To 1k heard in the streets of the crazy town,

Gone mad in the joy of snow coming down;

To be anil to die in my terrible woe,

With a bed and n shroud of the beautiful snow.

Helpless and foul as the trampled snow,

Sinner, despair not ! Christ stoopeth low

To rescue the soul that is lost in sin,

And to raise it to life enjoyment again.

Groaning Bleeding Dying lor thee,

The Ciucilied hung on the cursed tree I

His accents of mercy fell soft on thine r,

"Is there mercy for me Will He hear my

weak prayer?"

O God 1 in the stream that for sinners did

flow,

Wash me, uml I shall lie whiter than snow.

The