"BEAUTIFUL SNOW."

Nelson Evening Mail, Volume V, Issue 197, 6 July 1870, Page 2

"BEAUTIFUL SNOW."

[In the early part of the American war, one dark Saturday morning, in the dead" of "winter;' ; t! ere died at the Commercial Hospital, Cincin- ! inati, a young.waman, 6verwhb'seiliea3 only two and twenty summers had passed. She had once been possessed of an enviable share of beauty — had been, as she herself' said, 'flattered and sought for the charms of her face;' but, alas! she fell. Once the pride of respectable parentage, her first wrong step was • the small beginning of the • same old story over again ' which has -been the only life-history of thousands., Among the personal effects was found in manuscript, ' Beautiful Snow,' which, was immediately carried to. Mr. Euos B. Reed, a person of culture and literary tastes, who was at that time editor of the National Union.. In the columns of the papery on the morning of the ( day . following the girl's death, the poem appeared in print for , the first time. When the paper, containing the poem, came out on Monday morning, the body ot the victim had not. yet received burial. The attention of Thomas Buchanan Read, one of the finest American poets, was spon directed to the newly-published lines He was so taken with their stirring pathos that he immediately followed the corpse to its final resting-place. Such are the plain facts concerning her whose' 'Beautiful Snow'

Will long be regarded as one of the brightest gems in American literature.] Oh ! the snow, the beautiful snow, Filling the sky and the earth below, Over the housetops, over the street, Over the heads of the people you meet, Dancing, flirting, Skimming along-. > : ■ Beautiful snow : it can do no wrong ; Flying to kiss a fa,ir lady's cheek, Clinging to lips in frolicsome freak, Beautiful snow from heaven above, Pure as an angel, gentle as love ! Oh ! the' snow, the beautiful snow, How" the flaked gather and laugh as they go, "Whirling about in maddening fun, .( Chasing, laughing, hurrying by ; It lights up the face, and it sparkles the eye ; And the dogs, with a bark and a bound, Snap at the crystals as they eddy around ; The town is alive, and- its heart in a glow, To welcome the coming of beautiful snow. ; ; ■How '.wild the crowd goes iwaying along, Hailing .each other, with humor and song ; flow the glad- sleighs like meteors flash by, Bright for a moment, then lost to the eye ; - ■ Kinging, swinging, dashing, they go Over the, crust of, the beautiful snow • Snow;'s6 pure when it falls from the sky, To be r trampled and. tracked by thoasands. of feet,' ■".'■■■ Till it blends with the filth of the horrible street. Once I was pure -is the snow — but I fell ! Fell like the enow-flakes from heaven to hell, Fell to be trampled like filth in the street, Fell to be scoffed, to be spat on, and beat ; Pleading, cut sing,. 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 a crystal, a heart like its glow"; Once I was loved for my innocent grace ; ', Flattere 1 arid sought for the charms of my face ! ; Father, mother, sister,, all, ! God,- and myself: l have lost by rny fall ; The veriest, wretch that goes shivering by Will make, a wide sweep lest I wandtr too Digh! • For all that's on or about me, I know, There's' nothing that's pure as the beautiful .snow.. ... How strange it should be that the beautiful snow Should fall, on a sinner with nowhere to go ! How strange it should be when the night comes i .. again, ;- If the snow and the ice struck my desperate brain, . ; . ; - -Fainting, freezings dying alone, . Too, wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan, ■ To' be neard in the streets of the crazy town, . Gone mad "in the joy of the snow coining down, To be and die in my terrible, woe, With" a bed : and a shrbu'd of beautiful snow. Helpless and foul as the trampled snow, Sinner, despair not l Christ stoopeth low To. rescue the souUtha't is lost in sin, Andifaise it: to life and enjoyment again. Groaningj bleeding, d ving for thee, The Crucified hung on the cursed tree ! His accents of mercy hang soft an thine ear, ' Is there mercy for me, will he hear my weak prayer? ' . , . . O God ! in. .the stream that for sinners did flow, Wash me,'andi will be whiter than snow!