BEAUTIFUL SNOW.

New Zealand Tablet, Volume II, Issue 63, 11 July 1874, Page 14

BEAUTIFUL SNOW.

Th k following exquisite poem went the rounds of the Colonial papers some few years since, but we make no excuse for republishing it— its touching pathos aud beauty will plead its own cause. t Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow, Filling the sky and the earth below, Over the housetop, over the street, Over the heads of the people you meet. Dancing, Flirting, Skipping along, Beautiful snow, it can do no wrong I Plying to kiss a fair lady's cheek, Clinging to lips in a frolicsome freak, Beautiful snow, from the heavens above, Pure as an angel, and tickle as love. Oh, the snow, the beatiful snow, How the flakes gather and laugh as they go I WhirliHg aJong iv their maddening lun, It plays in its glee witli every one ! Chasing, Laughing, Hurrying by, It lights up the face and 't sparkles the eye j And even the dogs with a bark and a bound Snap ut the restate that eddy around ; 'Jhe town is alive, and its heart in a glow To welcome the coming of the beautiiul snow. How the crowd goes swaying along ! Hailing each other with humour and song ' t How the bright Bledges like meteors flash by, Bright for a moment I hen lost to the eye, Kinging, Swinging, * ancing they go Over the crest of the beautiful snow. Snow so pure when it falls from the sky, To be trampled to mod by the crowd rushing by ; To be trampled and tracked by the thousands of feet, 'Kill it bleuds with the mud in the horrible street. Once I was pure as the snow — but I feel, fell like the snow flakes — from heaven to hell — Fell to be trample i as the filth of the street, Fell to be scoffed, to be spat on and beat, Pleading, ; Cursing, Dreading to die, Sellng my soul to who ever would buy j Haling the living and fearing the dead, Dealing in shame for a morsel of bread. Merciml God ! have I fallen so low, And jet I was once like this beautitul snow Once I was fair as this beautiful snow, With an eye like its crystal, a heart like its glow ; Once I waa loved for my innocent grace, Flattered and sought for the charm of my face Fatlier, 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 of all that is on or about me 1 know, k There is nothing that's pure, but the beautiful snow. How strange it would be that this beautiful snow Should full on a sinner with nowhere to go, How strange it would be when the night comes again, - If the snow and the ice struck my desperate brain. Fainting, Breezing, T ' Dying alone, Too wicked for prayer, too weak for a moan To be heard in the clush of the now crazy town, Gone mad in their joy of the snow coming down. To live and to die in my terrible woe, With a bed and a shroud of the beautiful snow.