The daily phoenix. [volume] (Columbia, S.C.) 1865-1878, 1869-03-20

publication of notice of
Zone more unfortunate,
Rashly importunate,
Gone to her death"
We sincerely hope the relatives of the
girl-for she is scarcely more than q girl in
appearanco-will look after her; that she is
unreclaimable, we cannot believe; if so, then
we forfeit our claim as n physiognomist
She may prove another Magdnlen But to
the poem:
Oh! the SNOW, the beautiful snow
Filling the sky and earth below;
Over the house-tops, over the street,
Over the heads of tho people you meet,
Dancing, flirting, skimming along;
Beautiful snow! it can do no wrong
Flying to kiss Il fair lady's cheek,
Clinging to lips in frolicsome freak
Beautiful snow, from the Heaven above,
Pure as an angel, gentle as love.
Oh! the snow, the beautiful snow,
How the flakes gather and laugh as they 60,
Whiring about in the maddening fun,
1t plays in its glee with every one.
Chasing, laughing, hurrying by!
1t lights on the face and it sparkles the eye;
And the merry dogs, with a bark and q
bound,
Snap at the crystals that eddy around
The town is alive and its heart in O glow,
To welcome the coming of beautiful snow!
How wild the crowd goes swaying along,
Hailing each other with humor and song!
How the gay sledges, like meteors, pass by,
Bright for the moment, then lost to the eye
Ringing, swinging, dashing they go,
Over the crust of the beautiful snow;
Snow so pure that it falls from the sky,
To be trampled in mud by the crowd rush
ing by,
To be tramplcd and tracked by thousands
Till it blends with the filth in the horrible
street.
Once l was pure as the snow-but fell
Fell like the snow-fakes, from Heaven to
hell;
Fell, to be trampled as filth in tho street;
Fell, to be scoifed, to be spit on and beat;
Pleading, cursing, 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 fallen so low!
And yet l was once like the beautiful snow!
Once was fair as the beautiful snow,
With an eye like the crystal, heart like it's
glow;
Once was loved for my innocent grace
Flattered and sought for the charms of my
face!
Father, mother, sisters ALL
God and myself. I've lost by my fall;
The veriest wretch that goes shvering by
Will make wide swoop, lest l wander too
nigh;
For all that is on or above, know,
There is nothing as pure as the beautiful
snow.
How strange it should be that this beautiful
Should fall on sinner with nowhere to 90,
How strange it should be, when the night
comes again,
Ii the snow and the ice struck my desperate
brain,
Painting, freezing, dying alone;
Too wicked for prayer, too weak for moan
TO be heard in the streets of tho crazy
Como mad in the JOY of the snow coming
down,
To be, and to die, in my terrible woe,
With bed and shroud of the beautiful
snow!
III words were ever more sorrowful:y .
sounded, or more sadly, yet gorgeously,
griei woven than these heart -throbs, reyel
ing IN rhyme, we have yet to embalm them
In the myrtle memory Of our tears. They are
not the lsp-breathing of romance; they must
have been uttered from the blighted rose
lips OF real life-each word gem, each line
pearl Perchance, when her wild word
wall closed, amid earth's icicles, some sister
spirit OF song, listening, entranced, above,
may have flung to earth her starry scarf oi
sympathy, and caught this loved and lost
Peri up to her home in Heaveni Hope in
spires it. ,T.Hj