And its bright jewelry of flowers and dew-drops, (Each orbed drop, an orb of glory in it)

Would put them all in eclipse."

S. T. COLERIDGE. ZAPOLYA.

WE must have none here

But vernal blasts, and gentle winds appear; Such as blow flowers, and through the glad

boughs sing

Many soft welcomes to the lusty Spring;

These are our music.

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER.

The Snowdrop.

Galanthus Nivalis.

Class Hexandria. Order Monogynia.

THE Snowdrop is generally esteemed a native of Britain, although some botanists consider it to have escaped from gardens. It appears in February in meadows, woods, and on the banks of rivers, when it delights by the simplicity and purity of the form and hue of its petals, and its glad promise of approaching spring.

Now the glad earth her frozen zone unbinds,
And o'er her bosom breathe the western winds;
Already now the Snowdrop dares appear,
The first pale blossom of the unripened year;
As Flora's breath, by some transforming power,
Had changed an icicle into a flower:

Its name and hue the scentless plant retains,
And winter lingers in its icy veins.

MRS. BARBAULD

B

TO THE SNOWDROP AT EASTER.

FIRST-BORN of the year's delight,
Pride of the dewy glade,
In vernal green and virgin white,
Thy vestal robes, arrayed;

'T is not because thy drooping form
Sinks graceful o'er its nest,
When chilly shades from gathering storm
Affright thy tender breast;

Nor for yon river islet wild

Beneath the willow spray,

Where, like the ringlets of a child,
Thou weavest thy circlet gay;

'T is not for these I love thee dear-
Thy shy averted smiles

To fancy bode a joyous year,
One of life's fairy isles.

They twinkle to the wintry moon,
And cheer the ungenial day,
And tell us, all will glisten soon
As green and bright as they.

Is there a heart, that loves the spring,
Their witness can refuse?

Or thankless doubt, when angels bring
From Heaven their Easter news?

THE CHRISTIAN YEAR

FOR she was timid as the wintry flower,
That, whiter than the snow it blooms among,
Droops its fair head submissive to the power
Of every angry blast that sweeps along,
Sparing the lovely trembler; while the strong
Majestic tenants of the leafless wood
It levels low.

MRS. TIGHE'S PSYCHE.

WHEN I meet thee by the way,
Like a pretty, sportive child,
On the winter-wasted wild,

With thy darling breeze at play,
Opening to the radiant sky
All the sweetness of thine eye;

-Or bright with sun-beams, glad with showers,
O thou fairy-queen of flowers!

Watch thee o'er the plain advance,
At the head of Flora's dance;
Simple Snowdrop! then in thee
All thy sister train I see:

Every brilliant bud that blows,
From the blue-bell to the rose ;
All the beauties that appear
On the bosom of the year;
All that wreathe the locks of Spring,
Summer's ardent breath perfume,
Or on the lap of Autumn bloom,
-All to thee their tribute bring,

Exhale their incense at thy shrine,

-Their hues, their odours all are thine!
For while thy humble form I view,

The Muse's keen prophetic sight
Brings fair futurity to light,

And fancy's magic makes the vision true.

J. MONTGOMERY.