THE PURPLE CROCUS. 175 



greater portion of our most valued flowers draw 

 the gaze downwards, by their lowly stature ; while 

 their own faces, raised to heaven, set us the exam- 

 ple of looking thitherward. It is remarkable that 

 the blossoms of lofty plants are most frequently 

 pendulous ; those of the dwarf family the reverse. 

 The golden clusters of the beautiful laburnum, and 

 the shining silver of the yet lovelier acacia — how 

 gracefully they bend and fall, as though ashamed 

 of being placed so high ; while the innocent daisy, 

 made to be trampled on, and her neighbour, the 

 spruce little butter-cup, lift up their broad bright 

 eye, in unreserved freedom. Thus the great one 

 of the earth, when touched by divine grace, rejoices 

 to be brought down, and the brother of low degree 

 can also rejoice in that he is exalted into a great- 

 ness that the world knows not of. 



This is a dreary season ; bleak winds are abroad 

 and the frequent snow-drift oppresses every bough. 

 The holly's bright berry peeps out here and there ; 

 but for flowers I may search in vain among the 

 branches. I must look lower, and there they are 

 — the regiments of soldiers, as my childish fancy 

 termed them, that fail not to start up, keeping their 

 appointed ranks in resolute defiance of all the ar- 

 tillery of winter. Far less elegant than the snow- 

 drop, the CROCUS yet possesses a sprightly grace 

 peculiar to itself. The former seems to endure 

 adversity ; the latter to laugh at it. I allude to the 



