PARODY ON THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW.

Cromwell Argus, Volume XI, Issue 574, 9 November 1880, Page 6

PARODY ON THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW.

■> From an American Point of ViewOh, the Snow—the * * Beautiful Snow ” That flies in your face wherever you go, That’s twisted and twirled in some dizzy old street Till it blinds your poor eyes and freezes your feet. Now, it’s all very well, this “ Beautiful Snow,” If you’ve wealth in your pocket—and somewhere to go— But the peot was born in the summer, I know, That finds something pretty in “ Beautiful Snow.” “ Beautiful,” is it? Hump ! “Beautiful Snow ! I’ The thermometer just three degrees below, Your overcoat pawned—not a cent in your “ kick,” And “ Beautiful Snow,” till you can’t see a brick On the sidewalk around—ln some “ turf ” country town, And that “Beautiful Snow” is still coming down. Now, if I had a room, with fire all a-glow, 1 could envy the “gawk” that wrote' “ Beautiful Snow.” “ Beautiful,” is it? Well “ Beautiful Snow” When it falls, on a sinner—with no place to go— It seems to me now (I’m a practical man And no lovesick damsel, or innocent lamb); Therefore I can’t be expected, you know, To stand on my head about “ Beautiful Snow. It seems to me, though, that this “duffer should go And bury himself in his “ Beautiful Snow.” “ Beautiful Snow, from the Heaven above, Pure as an angel, gentle as love. ” 1 wish they’d keep it there, and not throw So much down on earth of their “ Beautiful Snow.” “ Gentle as love.” How car they say so ? Why, see bow it sticks—it never will go— March, April, and May might come and might go, But still we’d be blest with this “ Beautiful Snow.”