The commonwealth. (Scotland Neck, N.C.) 1882-1884, 1882-08-31
THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW.
[BY REQUEsT.]

the London Spectator pronounced to be
the finest poem ever written in America :
The early part of the war, on a stormy
Saturday night; night. in the dead OF
winter, there died at the Commercial
Hospital, in the City of Cincinnati, a
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, 'iattered and sought for the
charms of her face but alas she had
fallen from woman's high estate. Highly
educated, and with accomplished man
ners. she might have shown in the best
society. But the evil hour that prov ed
her ruin was the door from which went
out the innocence ofchildhood, and having
spent young life in disgrace and shame,
the poor friendless one died the melan-
choly death of broken-hearted outcast,
Among her personal effects was found, IN
& The Beautiful Snow
which was Immediately carried to Enos B.
Reed. gentleman of culture and literary
taste. who was at the time the editor Of
the National Union. In the columns of
that paper, on the morning of the day
following the girls death, the poem ap-
peared in print for the first time. When
tn paper containing the poem came out
the body Of the victim had not yet re-
ceived burial. The attention 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 are
the plain facts concerning her whose
Snow will long be remem-
bered 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 the fair lady's cheek,
Clinging to lips in frolicsome 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 as they go
Whirling about in their madening fun,
It plays in its glee with every one
Chasing,
Laughing,
Hurrying by,
1t lights on the face and sparkles the eye,
And playing dogs with bark and a bound
Snap at 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,
Hailing each other with humOr and song,
How the gay sledges like meteors pass by,
Bright for moment, then lost to the eye
Ringing,
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 trampled and tracked by thousands
Of feet.
Till it blends with the filth of the horrible
street.
Once | was as pure as the snow. but fell
Fell like snowflake, 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
Ha ting the living and fearing the dead,
Merciful God Have fallen so low?
And yet | was once like the beautiful
snow.
Once l was fair as the beautiful snow,
With an eye like crystal. heart like its
Glow;
Once Twas loved for my innocent grace,
Flattered and sought for the charms of my
face.
Father,
Mother,
Sister, all,
God and myself have lost by my fall +!
The veriest wretch that goes shivering by
Will make wide sweop lest | wander
too nigh;
For all that is On or above me, | know,
There's nothing so pure as the beautiful
snow.
How strange it should be that this beauti.
full snow
Should fall en- sinner with nowhere to 90
comes again
IL CllC SuON Stlltl CllC lCC SGIuCh lily uCS-
perate brain 4!
Falnting,
freezing,
Dying alone,
Too wicked for prayer, too weak for a
moan
10 be heard in the streets of the crazy
town.
Gone mad in the joy of the snow coming
down.
To be and 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 it's sin,
And raise it to life and enjoyment again.
Groaning,
Bleeding,
Dying for the,
The crucified hung on the accursed tree,
His accents of mercy fell soft on thine ear.
Is there mercy for me? Will be heed my
prayer?
o God in the stream that for sinners did
flow
Wash me. and shall be whittier than snow.