“Beautiful Snow."

Cromwell Argus, Volume I, Issue 22, 13 April 1870, Page 7

“Beautiful Snow."

in the early part of the American war, ■one dark Saturday morning in the dead of of winter, there died at the Commercial Hospital, 'Cincinsutti, a young woman over whose .head only two and twenty summers had passed. 1 She had once been possessed 'Of an enviable share of beauty-*-, and sought for the charms of her face j” but, alas, she fell- Once the pride of te.spectaVjg parentage, her first wrong step was tl~Small beginning of the “ same old story fcy&r again” which has been the only life history of thousands. •Amongst her personal effects was found in manuscript “ Beautiful Snow,” which was immediately carried to Mr Enos B. Reed ; a person, of culture and literary tastes, who was at that time the editor of the National Union. In the columns of the paper, 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 of the victim had not yet received burial. The attention of Thomas JBuchanan Read, one of the finest American poets, was soon directed to the newly-published lines; he was so taken with-their stirring pathos, that he immediately followed the corpse to its final Vesting place. Such are the plain facts concerning her whose “ Beautiful Snow” will long be regarded as one of the brightest gems of American, literature.

Oh ! the snow, the 'beautiful snow,* Pilling the sky .and the earth below. Over the housetops, over the street, Over the heads of the people yon meet, Dancing, Flirting, Skimming along. Beautiful snow ! it can do no wrong ; Flying to kiss a fair lady’s cheek, Winging to lips in frolicsome freak— Beautiful snow from heaven above, Pure as aft angel, gentle as love ! Oh ! the Snow, the beautiful snow— How the flakes gather and laugh as they go, Whirling about in maddening fun, Chasing, Laughing, Hurrying by ; It lights ftp 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. Itnw wild the crowd goes swaying along, Hiiling each other with humour and song ; How the glad sleighs, like meteors, flash by. Bright for a moment, then lost to the eye ; Ringing, Swinging, Dashing, they go I'ver the crust of the beautiful snow ; Snow, to pure when it fall! from the sky, To be trampled and tracked by thousands of feet, Till it blends with the filth in the horrible street. flnee I was pure as tbo snow—but I fell! Pell like the snow-fl.ak.es from heaven to hell. Fell to be trampled like filth in the street, fell to be scoffed, to be spit on, and beat ; Pleading, Cursing. Dreading to die; Selling ray soul to wlioever would buy ; Healing in Shame for a. morsel of bread ; Bating the living and fearing the dead. Merciful Hod ! have 1 fallen so low ’ ■hid yet 1 was once like the beautiful snow. Once I was fair as the beautiful snow, 'bth an eye like a crystal, a heart like its glow j taco I was loved for nij innocent grace— Flattered and sought for the charms of my face, Father, Mother, Sister, all, '«1 and niyself, I haarc lost by my fall. File veriest wretch thrtt goes shivering by "ill make a wide sweep, lest I wander too nigh ; For all that’s on or about me, I kno v, Here isnothingthat’s pure as the beautiful snow. Bow strange it should, he that the beautiful snow 'Bould fall on a sinner with nowhere to go ! few strange it should, be, when the night comes again, : the snow and the ice struck my desperate brain! Fainting, Freezing, , . Dying alone; w wicked for prayer, too Weak for a moan ;) be heard in the streets of the crazy town, we mad in the joy of the snow coming down ; ’bo and die in my terrible woe, bth a bed and a shroud of the beautiful snow, ielplcss, and foul as tbe trampled snow, inner, despair not ! Christ stoopeth low o rescue the soul that is lost in sin, nd raise it to life and. enjoyment again : Greaning, Bleeding, Dying for thee, “ 8 crucified hung on -the cursed tree ! '«accents of mercy bang Soft on thine car. « there mercy for me ? Will be heed my weak prayer ?” fiod ! in the stream that for sinners did flow, «hj me, and I shall be purer than snow !