But patiently each wrought her beautiful dress,
Or fashioned her beautiful crown;

And now they are coming to brighten the world,
Still shadowed by Winter's frown;

And well may they cheerily laugh, “Ha! ha!"
In a chorus soft and low,

The millions of flowers hid under the ground-
Yes-millions-beginning to grow.

- Selected.

THE SNOWDROP.

Now

OW the spring is coming on,
Now the snow and ice are gone,

Come, my little snowdrop root,

Will you not begin to shoot?

Ah, I see your little head
Peeping from the flower-bed;
Looking out so green and gay,
On this fine and pleasant day.

For the mild south wind doth blow,
And hath melted all the snow;
And the sun shines out so warm,
You need not fear another storm.

So your pretty flowers show,
And your petals white undo;

Then you'll hang your modest head

Down upon my flower-bed.

- Songs for the Little Ones at Home.

66

“I

THE FIRST SNOWDROP.

WANT to get up," the Snowdrop said,

As she loosened the wraps about her head. "It may be the world is white with snow, Yet I'd rather be there than here below. 'Tis horrid to be curled up so tightI want to look out and see the light.

"My dear little sisters are fast asleep,
And I am the first to take a peep
Out of my bed, where, snugly rolled,
I slept in warm blankets, fold on fold.
But now I am ever so wide awake,

And it's surely time for the morn to break.

My dress is the prettiest e'er was seen;
'Tis white, with an overskirt of green,
With six pretty silken cords that hold
As many tiny tassels of gold.

Oh, I have been working, never fear,
To look my best, when I do appear.

"And I must welcome the song-birds home,
There seems such a stirring all around,
And I hear new voices above the ground.
The buds on the willows are calling, 'Come';
For this is the message they bring, I guess,
'Get up, little maid; it is time to dress.""

-Julia M. Dana.

IN APRIL.

HE air is soft and balmy,

THE

The grass is growing green,
The maple buds are swelling,

Till their slender threads are seen.
The brown brook chatters gayly
Its rippling course along,
And hark! - from distant tree-top
I hear the bluebird's song.

O joyous, gladsome carol,
Exultant, fearless, true!

There is hidden a heavenly message
'Neath that coat of heavenly blue.

My heart thrills as I listen;

God's love is sure and strong. Thank Him for life's awakening! Praise for the bluebird's song!

After the winter, springtime,
The sunshine follows rain;
Tho' grief and sorrow chill us,

The heart grows warm again.
From earth to His glad heaven

God will His loved ones bring; Still, after frosts and snowdrifts, We hear the bluebirds sing.

"By and by the rain came

Knocking at the door; Sunbeams coaxed us

Sleep no more!

Out we sprang delighted;

Now we gayly sing,

Through the merry hours of spring."

- Selected.

THE

PUSSY WILLOW.

HE brook is brimmed with melting snow,
The maple sap is running,

And on the highest elm a crow

His coal-black wings is sunning.

A close, green bud, the Mayflower lies
Upon its mossy pillow;

And sweet and low the south wind blows,
And through the brown fields calling goes,
"Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow!

Within your close, brown wrapper stir;
Come out and show your silver fur;
Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow!"

Soon red will bud the maple trees,
The bluebirds will be singing,
And yellow tassels in the breeze
Be from the poplars swinging;
And rosy will the Mayflower lie

Upon its mossy pillow;

“But you must come the first of all,

Come, Pussy!" is the south wind's call,—
"Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow!

A fairy gift to children dear,
The downy firstling of the year, —

Come, Pussy! Pussy Willow!"

-Selected.