And the fleecy clouds that floated by.
And swiftly o'er its petals white,
There crept a blueness like the light
Of skies, upon a summer night.
And in its chalice, I am told,
The bonny bell was found to hold
A tiny star that gleamed like gold.
THE DEW MOTHER'S GIFT TO THE
ROSE
On warm summer evenings, when the afterglow of sunset tints the sky, the Dew Mother comes to care for her children of the earth, the trees, grass, and flowers. She is dressed in garments of softest grey, so delicate and so much like the mists of the evening sky that it is very hard, indeed, to see her wander about with her precious refreshing gift.
One evening, after a scorching hot day, the Dew Mother had heavy work to perform. She was needed everywhere. The fierce rays of the sun had parched the forest leaves; the fruit in the orchards and vineyards must be bathed in the life-giving dew; the thirsty flowers, hanging their heads, waited patiently for her tender care and they knew she would not forsake them.