Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1872-01-05
l)octitoI.
THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW.

| The Omaha Republican gives the following
history of this production, which the London
| Spectator pronounced to be the finest poem ever
written in America:
! The early part of the war, on stormy Sat
urday night, in The dead of winter, there died
at the Commercial Hospital, in the city Of Gin
ciunati, young woman over whose head only
two and twenty summers had passed. She
had once been possessed of an enviable share
of beauty, and had been as she herself said,
! ''hattercd and sought for the charms of her
| face but alas she had fallen from womau's
high estate. Highly educated, and with nc
compished manners, she might have shown
in the best society. But the evil hour that
proved her ruin was the door from which went
out the innocence Of childhood, and having
spent young life in disgrace and shame, the
poor friendess one died the melancholy death
OF broken hearted outcast. Among her per-
sonal effects was found, in manuscript, '"The
Beautiful Snow, !" which was Immediately car
ried to Enos B. Reed, n gentleman Of culture
and literary taste, who was at the time the
editor Of the National Union. In Nc-s-]nmns
of thnt paper, on the morning. Of the day fol-
lowing the girls death, .he poem appeared in
print for the first time. When the paper con-
taining,the poem came out the body of the
victim had not yet received burial. The at
tention of Thomas Buchanan Reed one of the
first American poets, was so taken with their
stirring pathos that he Immediately followed
the corpse TO its final resting place. Such arc
the plain facts concerning her whose "Beauti-
full Snow will long be remembered as one Of
the brightest gems in American literature.
Oh the snow the beautiful snow
Filling the sky and the earth below,
Over the house-tops, over the street,
Over the heads of the people you meet,
Dancing,
Flirting,
Skipping along;
Beautiful snow it can do nothing wrong.
Flying TO kiss n fair lady's cheek,
Clinging to lips in froicsome freak
Beautiful SNOW from the heavens above,
Pure as an angel, gentle as love
Oh the snow, the beautiful snow
How the flakes gather and laugh they go
Whirling about in their maddenng fun,
1t plays in its glee with every one
Chasing,
Laughing,
Hurryng by,
It lights On the facc and sparlies the eye,
Aud pn, ing dogs, wjtA !. bark and bound,
SNAP 40 the crystals that eddy around
THE town is alive, and its hearts IN a glow,
To welcome the coming OF beautiful snow.
How wildly the crowd goes swaying along,
Ilailing each other with humor and song;
How the gay sledges like meteors pass by,
Bright Tor Il moment, then lost to the eye
Swinging.
Dashing they go,
Over the crest of the beautiful snow
Snow so pure when it fell from the sky,
As to make one regret TO see it lie
. TO be lramped and tracked by thousands offec
Till itblends with the filth Of the horrible street
Once was pure as the snow, but ! fell
Fell like n snow flake, from heaven to hell
Fell to be trampled as filth in the street
Fell 10 be scolied, to be spit on and beat-
Pleading,
Cursing,
Dreadng TO del
Selling my soul to whoever would buy;
Dealing in shame for morse of bread
Hating the living and fearing the dead
Merciful God have fallen so low?
And yet was once like the beautiful snow.
Once was fair as the beautiful snow
With an eye like il crystal, n heart like it's glow
Once was loved for my innocent grace
Flattered aud sought for the charms Of my face
Father,
Mother.
Sister, all,
God and myself ! have lost by my fall
The vcriest wretch that goes shiverng by
Will make wide swoop lest wander too nigh
For all lhat.is on or above me- know
There's nothing SO pure as the beautiful snow
How strange it should be that this beautiful
snow,
Should fall on a sinner with nowhere 10 90 !
How strange it should be when night comes
again,
If the snow and the ice struck my desperate
b.ain
Painting,
Freezing,
Dying alone,
Too wickcdfor prayer, too weak for Il moan
TO be heard in the streets OF the crazy town,
Gone mad in theioy OF the snow coming down,
TO be and TO die in my terrible woe
With bed aud a shroud Of the beautiful snow
Helpless and foul as the tramped snow,
Sinner. despair not, Christ stoopeth 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 crucfed hung on the accurscd tree,
His accents of mercy fell soft on thine ear,
Is there mercy for me2 VIII He heed my prayer?
n Gud In The stream that for sinners did flow