The lovely flower that first doth show her face;
Whose worthy prayse the pretty byrds do syng,
Whose presence sweet the wynter's cold doth chase.
Almond Blossom.
Blossom of the almond trees,
April's gift to April's bees,
Birthday ornament of spring,
Flora's fairest daughterling;
Coming when no flowerets dare
Trust the cruel outer air;
When the royal kingcup bold
Dares not don his throat of gold;
And the sturdy blackthorn spray
Keeps his silver for the May;
Coming when no flowerets would
Save thy lowly sisterhood;
Early violets, blue and white,
Dying for their love of light.
Edwin Arnold.
There is a rapturous movement, a green growing,
Among the hills and valleys once again,