Yet if the rain is like man’s love,

Like God’s love is the blessed earth;

The one refreshing from above,

The other giving beings birth.

That which on God’s love does not stand

No might of human love can plant.

God grant us rain! oh let us stand!

A root in Thee to all men grant!”

For dear little Harriet from her friend Octavia Hill, with earnest hope that neither summer drought nor winter frost may ever deprive her of the rain, and that her trust, like the roots of the flowers she loves, may ever take more firm hold of God, as their little fibres do of the strong nourishing dear old earth.

VISIT FROM FORMER TOY-WORKER