"How very pale."
THE SNAIL.
Poor little Snail,
How very pale,
Your cheek is blanched with fear!
What horrid dread
Has made you shed
So many a slimy tear?
Come! faster crawl
Along the wall,
Leave care behind,—all's well!
That seeming pack
Upon your back
Is near an empty shell.
"Leave care behind."
Come! smile again,
And let the rain
Of tears at once be dry;
Faint-hearted quite,
And far from right,
Before you're hurt to cry.
No one will doubt
Who thinks about
This great world spinning round,
That all have hours
When sorrow's showers
Make April all around.