I’m sure they must be weary now
Of winter’s dismal, icy brow,
And longing for the breath of flowers,
So we will stay and offer ours.”
And so the dainty blossoms braved
The snow and sleet, and only craved
A tiny place to fill with bloom,
And scatter forth their rich perfume;
And many hearts that yearned for spring,
And all the beauties she would bring,