Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1881-03-05

NIcs.u EaU not yet received burial.
The attention of Thomas Buchan-
an Reed, one of the first American
poets, was so taken with their stir.
ring pathos that he Immediately
followed the corpse to its final
resting place. Such are the plain
facts concerning her whose Beau
tiful Snow" shall long lie remem-
bered as one of the brightest gems
in American literature
O, the snow, the beautiful snow
Filling the sky and the earth below;
Over the housetops, over the street,
Over the heads Of the people you meet.
Dancing,
Flirting,
Skipping along;
Beautiful snow ! ii can do nothing wrong;
Flying TO kiss fair lady's cheek,
Clinging to lips in frolicsome freak;
Beautiful snow from the heavens above,
Pure as an angel, gentle as Lowell
o, the snow, the beautiful snow
How the flakes gather and laugh as they go
Whirling about in their maddening fun,
1t plays in its glee with every one
Chasing,
Laughing,
Hurrying by,
1t lights on the face, and it sparklss the
eye;
And playful dogs, with a bark and
bound,
Snap at the crystals that eddy around;
The town is alive, and its hear in glow
To welcome the coming of beautiful snow,
How wildly the crowd goes swaying along,
Hating each other with music and song
How.the gay sleds like meteors flash by,
Bright for the moment then lost to the eyel
Ringing,
Swinging.
Dashing they go
Over the crust Of the beautiful snow
Snow so pure when 1t falls from the sky,
As to make one regret to see it lie
To be trampled and tracked by the thou
sand feet,
Till it blends with tie filth in the horrible
street.
Once was as pure as the snow, but fell
Fell like the snow hake from heaven to
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 would buy;
Dealing in shame for morsel of bread;
Hating the living, and fearing the dead
Merciful God Have fallen so low?
Add yet | was once like the beautiful
snow.
Once was as fair as the beautiful snow,
With an eye like the crystal, hea TT like
its glow;
Once was loved for my innocent grace,
Flattered and sought for the charms of the
face,
Father,
Mother,
Sister, all,
God and myself have lost by my fall |
The veriest wretch that goes shiyering by
Will make wide sweep lest wander too
nigh;
For all that is on or about me | know
There's nothing as pure as the beautiful
tiful snow
Should fall on sinner with nowhere to
GO
How strange it should be when night
comes again,
If the snow and the ice struck my desper-
ate brain
Painting,
Freezing,
Dying alone,
Too wicked for prayer, too weak for
moan
To be heard in the streets Of crazy town,
Gone mad in the joy Of the snow coming
down,
To be aud to die In my terrible woe,
With bed and shroud of the beautiful
snow.
Helpless and foul as the trampled 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.
Grooming,
Bleeding,
Dying for thee,
The Crucified hung on the accused tree;
His accents of mercy fell soft on thine ear;
| 5 sAere mercy for me? Will he heed my
prayer
o, God, in the stream that for sinners did |
flew,
Wash me, and shall be whittier than snow.
IN. Y. Advo cate.