The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1870-06-03
PULASKI, TENNESSEE, FRIDA

ckdrPs Monthly the Dispatch, and
other publications, and the urgency
with which he asked that the money
for them should be sent to him " as
soon as possible" shows that he was
sadly in need of it; indeed, he said he
was starving. One of his letters re-
minds one of Poe's to n. p. Willis, beg
ging for five dollars to keep him aliSe.
It reads, "FOr Gods sake send me
some money, no matter how little, as
quickly as you can. My child cried for
bread this morning, and I had none to
give" This was written but q short
time ago, and from it the reason of the
seIf-murder may be easily cOnjectured.
In regard to the poem " The BeaUti-
ful Snow" discussion has not elected
undoubted truth. Yet, all things con-
sidered, Major SigOurney's claim to it
is as well founded as that of any other
person, not excepting Mr.. J. w. Wat
son and Henry FaxOn.
The following is the beautiful poem
alluded to:
THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW.
Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow!
Filling the earth and sky below:
Over the hOuSetOpS, over the street,
over the heads of people you meet,
Flirting,
Skfmming along;
Beautiful snow il can do no wrong;
Flying to kiss fair lady's cheek,
Clingfng 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 go,
WhirIing about in the maddening fun!
1t plays in its glee with every one.
Chasing,
Hurrying by,
1t lights on the face and it sparEles the eye,
And the dogs, with a bark and a bound,
Snap at the crystals that eddy around.
The town is alive and its heart in glow,
To welcome the coming of beautiful snow.
How wild the crowd goes surging along,
HaiIing each other with humOr and song!
How the gay SledgeS, like meteorS, naSh by,
Bright for the moment, then lost to the eye! !!
Ringin,
DaShing they go,
Over the crust of the beautiful snow
Snow so pure when it falls from the sky,
To be trampIed in mud by the crowd rushing
To be trampIed and tracked by the thousands
Till it blends with the filth of the horrible
Once was as pure as the snow-but fell!
Fell, like the snow-fakes, from heaven to
Fell, to be trampled as filth in the street;
Fell, to be scofed, to be spit on and beat;
Pleading,
Cursing,
Dreading to die.
Selling my soul 70 whoever would buy;
Dealing in ShaJ fOr mOrSel of bread;
Hating the living and fearing the dead.
MeUciful God have - fallen so low!
And yet was once like the beautiful snow.
Once 1 was fair as the beautiful snow,
With an eye like the crystal, Il heart like its
glow!
Once was loved for my innocent grace
Flattered and sought for the charm OF my
Father,
Mother,
Sisters all,
God and myself I've lost by my fall
The VerieSI wretch that goes Shivering by
Will make q wide SwOOp, lest wander 100
nigh:
For ali that is on or above me, know,
There is nothing that's pure as the beautiful
snow.
How strange it should be that this beautiful
snow
Should follow n sinner with nowhere to go;
How strange ii should be when the night
comes again,
If the snow and the ice struck my desperate
brain?
Painting,
+: eezing,
Dying alone,
Too wicked for prayer, too weak for n moan,
To be heard in the streets of the crazy town,
Gone mad in the JOY of the snow coming
down
To me, and so die in my terrible woe,
With bed and Shroud OF the beautiful