Know ye how opens out the seed, and how the plant up grows, 

 How, soft and green in sweet spring-tide, 'tis ripe ere summer's close? 

 How, in the downy covert of the swift-winged swallow's nest, 

 Instinct to mother-love expands in the gentle creature's breast; 

 And how, beneath the shelter of the frail, translucent shell, 

 A winged germ takes life one day to quit its narrow cell ? 



Fred. Deschamfs. 



