There's Nothing Like the Rose The lily has an air,

And the snowdrop a grace, And the sweet-pea a way,

And the heart's-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,

66

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.

The Violet

Down in a green and shady bed
A modest violet grew;

Its stalk was bent, it hung its head,
As if to hide from view.

And yet it was a lovely flower,

Its color bright and fair;

It might have graced a rosy bower
Instead of hiding there.

Yet there it was content to bloom,
In modest tints arrayed;

And there diffused its sweet perfume
Within the silent shade.

Then let me to the valley go,
This pretty flower to see,
That I may also learn to grow
In sweet humility.

Jane Taylor.

Daffy-Down-Dilly

Daffy-down-dilly

Came up

in the cold,

Through the brown mould, Although the March breezes

Blew keen on her face, Although the white snow Lay on many a place.

Daffy-down-dilly

Had heard under ground,

The sweet rushing sound

Of the streams, as they broke

From their white winter chains

Of the whistling spring winds
And the pattering rains.

Through the hard frozen ground, Quite up to the surface,

And then she looked round.

There was snow all about her,
Gray clouds overhead;

The trees all looked dead:

Then how do you

think

Poor Daffy-down felt,

When the sun would not shine,
And the ice would not melt?

“Cold weather!' thought Daffy, Still working away;

"The earth's hard to-day!

There's but a half inch

Of my leaves to be seen,

And two thirds of that

Is more yellow than green.

"I can't do much yet; But I'll do what I can: It's well I began!

For, unless I can manage

To lift up my head,

The people will think

That the Spring herself's deal"

So. little by little,

She brought her leaves out,

All clustered about;

And then her bright flowers

Began to unfold,

Till Daffy stood robed

In her spring green and gold.

O Daffy-down-dilly,

So brave and so true!
I wish all were like you!-

So ready for duty

In all sorts of weather,

And loyal to courage

And duty together.

Ann R Warner

Baby Corn

A happy mother stalk of corn

Held close a baby ear,

And whispered: "Cuddle up to me
I'll keep you warm, my dear.