The Andrew County Republican. [volume] (Savannah, Mo.) 1871-1876, 1873-01-10
Beautiful Snow"

The poem published below, and pronounced
by the London Spectator to be the ''dnest Amer
lean Poem ever written" and now going the
authors, and among them Miss Dora Shaw.
Miss Shaw Is not the author. The following We
believe to be the true history Of the origin and
In the early part Of the war, one dark Sstur.
day morning In the dead Of winter, there died
At the Commercial Hospital In Cincinnati, 9
twenty summers had passed. She had once been
possessed Of an enyiable share Of beauty, had
been, as she herself said, ''dattered and sought
fair brow had been written that terrible word
Prostitutioni Once thu. pride Of respectable pa
rentage, her first wrong step was the small be.
ginning Of the lam" ;sa e. old story over ag, .n
sands. Highly educated and accomplished In
manners, she might have shown In the best So
ciety. But the evil hour that proved her ruin
was but the door from childhood, and having
spent a young life In disgrace and shame, the
poor frieDdless one died the melancholy death Of
n brokcn-hearted %outcast. Among her personal
Snow, - which was Immediately carried Ia Enos
b. Read, q gentleman Of culture and literatuse
taste, who was nj that time editor Of the National
morning of the day following the girls death.
The poem appeared In print for the nrst time.
When the paper containing. the poem came out
had no, ys, received burial: The a%tteniion or
Thomas Buchanan Read, one Of the first OF our
American poets, was soon directed TO the newly
Surfing p., iaSs' hat ma' he Immediately iasa I p1oceeded
to the hospital, from whence he folloved the
corpse 10 its final resting place.
such were the plain facts concsrnins her
ss one OF the brightest gems Of American liters-
ture
Oh! the snow. the beautiful snow,
Filling the sky aud earth below;
Over the housc tops. over the street.
fhx.r sA. t,-x.l. ~ n O. --,-.
Dancing. nirNns. skimmins along.
Beautiful snow! II can do no wrong,
Flying TO kiss = fair lahy's cheek,
Clinging to Itps 10 nj some FREAK,
Hrautiis+ snow FUN the heavens above,
Pure q ~sn'aneei, gentle ~ lore.
Oh! the snow, the bcnntiul snow. s
How The nsks. gather and laugh as they 80
: Nfhirthy Shout In their uaaddening fun
II play. Ia Its flre With every one,
chasing, laughing h urrying by,
Hlignts on the face and spsrklea the eve.
And even the dogs with q bark and . bound,
snsps Al ihe crystals that eddy around
The town - alive and its heart Is nglow,
To welcome The coming Of beautiful spowi
How the Wild crowd goes swaying along,
H.,in *. each sss osGs5 Yin IN sp ms'sa and song
Bright for . moment, then lost TO the eye
Ringing: swinging. danoins they 20.
Snow 50 pure when II falls from the sky,
To be tranlplrd In mud by the crowd rushing BY,
To be trsmpied and ,rack'd By thousands ii
feet,
Till il blends uh the alth In the tsrrisle street.
Once ! was purr - the snow-bat ! fell!
Fell like the snow takes, from heaven TO hell.
Yell to I've trsmpl-dn ms Nth In the street.
Fell TO be scoIrd. to he spit On and beat
Pleading, cursing. drcsding to die,
Selling my soul 10 whoever would buy.
Pleading in shame for q morsel OF bread,
Hating the living, and tearing The dead;
Msrciful God! have | fallen 81 low? |
Yet I WINS once ike the beautiful snow.
Once I WAS fair rs the beautiful snow, |
With mn eye Ike q crystal, ahearf like its glow; |
Once I was loved for my innocent grace
Flattered aud sought IOr the charms Of nv |
fare!
Father. m,thrr. sister, all, |
God, and myslf. I've lost in my fall. |
The veriest wretch that goes shivering by,
Will make u wide swccp lest I wander too
For Of ali that 10 on, or about me, know
There Is nothing ihst's pure but the beautiful |
snow.
How strange It should be that the beautiful
snow r |
should fall IN > sinner with nowhere to go!
How strange il should be, when the night
Ir the snow and the ice strike my desp'rs,e
brain.
Painting. fret ring. dying alone
Too wicked for prayer, too weak for my moan |
To DE heard in the streets of the crazy town, |
Gone mad in its joys at the snow coming down. |
To lie and u die In m, horrible woe,
With Q bed and q shroud Of the terrible snow. |