Whig and tribune. [volume] (Jackson, Tenn.) 1870-1877, 1872-03-02
The snow.


sighs,D by Hood. we have seen nothing
equal 70 The following poem, In point Of
smooth vsrsfaestion, hnsgiDB FsthEn5 aud
touching pathos. II sounds like the plant
i've wall OF woman's lost honor, and will
bring tears TO every sensitive breast. The
author and subject were once supposed to
be the eccentric but talented Dora Shaw /;
but it is the production Of ths lamented
Henry W. Faxon. 1t is a. iull Of the pa
thos OF a blasted life As can be met with
anywhere:
Oh, the snow, the beautiful snoWl
Filling the earth and sky below;
over the housetops, over the street,
over the heads OF the people you meet
Dancing,
Flirting,
skimming along;
Beautiful snow ! It can do no wrong;
FLYING to kiSs fair lady's cheek,
Clinging to lips In frolicsome freak;
Beautiful snow from the heaven above,
Pure as an angel, gehtle aS love.
Oh, the snow, the beautiful snow
How the flakes gather and laugh as they go,
whirling about in the maddening fun!
It plays in its glee with everyone.
Chasing,
Laughing,
Hurrying by,
Il lights on the face and It sparkles the eye;
And the dogs, with bark and bound,
Snap at the crystals that eddy around.
The town Is alive and its heart in aglow,
To welcome the coming of beautiful snow.
Row wildly the crowd goes swaying along,
Hailing each other with humOr and song (!
How the gay sledges like meteors fash by,
Bright for a moment, then lost to the eyel
Ringing,
Swinging,
Dashing they go,
Over the crust of the beautiful snow
snow so pure when it falls from the sky,
To be trampeled in mud by the crowd rush.
ing by;
To be trampled and tracked by the thou
sands Of feet,
It'll it blends with the filth of the horrible
street.
Fell, like the snow fakes, from heaven 10
hell;
Fell, TO be trampled as filth in the street;
Fell, to be scoffed, to be spit on and beat;
Pleading,
Cursing,
Dreading to die;
Selling my soul to whoever weuld buy;
Dealing IN shame for a morsel Of bread;
Hating the living and fearing the dead.
Merciful God have fallen so low!
And vet was once like the beautiful snow.
Once was fair like the beautiful snow,
With an eye like the crystal, heart like its
glow;
Once 1 was loved fer 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 shivering by
win make wide swoop, lest wander too
nigh;
For all that is on or above me, know
There's nothing that's pure as the beauti-
ful snow.
How strange it should be that this beauti-
ful snow
Should follow a sinner with nowhere to 60 ;
How strange it should be when the night
comes again,
Ifthe snow and the ice struck my desper-
70 hraf
Painting,
Freezing,
Dying alone,
Too wicked for prayer, too weak for q
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 a bed and shroud OF the beautiful
snow.
| Helpless and foul as the trampled snow,
| Sinner, despair not! Christ stoepeth low
! To rescue the soul that is lost in its sin,
And raise it to life and enjoyment again.
Groaning,
Bleeding,
Dying for thee,
The Crucihed hung on the accursed tree.
His accents of mercy fell soft on thine ear
Is there mercy for mei Win He heed IN!
prayer?
o GOdl in the stream that for sinners di'
fow,
Wash me, and shall be whittier than snow