Behind the sea-wall's rugged length, So live the fathers in their sons: The Pilgrim's wild and wintry day But warmer suns erelong shall bring To life the frozen sod; And, through dead leaves of hope, shall spring Afresh the flowers of God! -J. G. Whittier. THE FLOWER BED. ABY, what do the blossoms say, BABY, Down in the garden walk? They nod and bend in the twilight gray; Say! can you hear them talk? They say, "Oh, darling baby bright, We're going to sleep! good night, good night! The gentle breezes have come to sing How God takes care of everything." Baby, what does the robin say, - Selected. STAR MAY. TARTING, starting from the earth, Wakened from their winter's sleep Now we know that May hath come, Robin lilts his sweetest song, Bluebird 's knocking at the door, Golden sunshine, silver rain, Birds and bees and blossoms fair, Now the world renewing. O thou merry month o' May! From your pretty flowers, dear, In life's fair May morning. - Helen B. Curtis. APPLE BLOSSOMS. HE orchard trees are white, TH For the bright May sun is shining, And the blossoms show Like a drift of snow, From a cloud with a rosy lining. And two little bright blue eyes, With a sweet surprise are glowing; "Oh! mamma, I see A popcorn tree And the corn-ball just a-growing.' Why does Mr. Bobolink Seem so shocking gay? Why does ah! I'd half forgot! This is really May. Why are all the water-bugs Donning roller-skates ? And the solemn lady-bugs Dozing on the gates? Why do all the meadow brooks Try to run away, As though some one were chasing them? Bless me! this is May. Please to tell me why the trees Have put new bonnets on? Please to tell me why the crows Their picnics have begun? Why does all the whole big world Smell like a fresh bouquet Picked from one of God's flower beds? Oh, I know! it's May. -R. M. Alden · The Pansy. I THE VIOLET. LOVE all things the seasons bring, All buds that start, all birds that sing, All the sweet words that summer sends, I love, how much I love the rose, On whose soft lips the south wind blows, The lily paler than the moon, The odorous, wondrous world of June, the Violet! Yet more She comes, the first, the fairest thing She dwells behind her leafy screen, So, love What modest thoughts the Violet teaches, Bright maiden, ne'er forget! But learn, and love, and so depart, "Long live the Violet!" -Barry Cornwall. FLOWER DANCES. 'N May the valley lilies ring, IN Their bells chime clear and sweet; The blossoms, gold and blue and white, The speedwell, the forget-me-not, |