THE PAGEANTRY OF GARDENS
THE BIRTH OF THE FLOWERS
God spoke! and from the arid scene
Sprang rich and verdant bowers,
Till all the earth was soft with green,—
He smiled; and there were flowers.
Mary McNeil Fenollosa
THE WELCOME
God spreads a carpet soft and green
O'er which we pass;
A thick-piled mat of jeweled sheen—
And that is Grass.
Delightful music woos the ear;
The grass is stirred
Down to the heart of every spear—
Ah, that's a Bird.