A DIFFERENCE OF OPINION
By The Editor.
WINTER TO SUMMER.
“I would not be so friendly with the sun;—
Hot-headed fellow, prying everywhere!
My flowers brightly bloom when he is gone,
And sparkle in the clear and frosty air.”
SUMMER TO WINTER.
“Winter, I own your icy blossoms fair,
But cold and white, unlike the rainbow hues
That paint my flowers—and who would ever care
For flowers less lasting than my morning dews?”