The lily has an air,
And the snowdrop a grace,
And the sweet-pea a way,
And the hearts-ease a face,—
Yet there's nothing like the rose
When she blows.
Christina G. Rossetti.
Snowdrops
Little ladies, white and green,
With your spears about you,
Will you tell us where you've been
Since we lived without you?
You are sweet, and fresh, and clean,
With your pearly faces;
In the dark earth where you've been,
There are wondrous places:
Yet you come again, serene,
When the leaves are hidden;
Bringing joy from where you've been,
You return unbidden—
Little ladies, white and green,
Are you glad to cheer us?
Hunger not for where you've been,
Stay till Spring be near us!
Laurence Alma Tadema.
Fern Song
Dance to the beat of the rain, little Fern,
And spread out your palms again,
And say, "Tho' the sun
Hath my vesture spun,
He had laboured, alas, in vain,
But for the shade
That the Cloud hath made,
And the gift of the Dew and the Rain,"
Then laugh and upturn
All your fronds, little Fern,
And rejoice in the beat of the rain!
John B. Tabb.