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?”

THE GRASS, THE BROOK, AND THE DANDELIONS.