56 SNOW-DROP. 



With thy darling breeze at play, 

 Opening to the radiant sky 

 All the sweetness of thine eye ; 



— Or bright with sunbeams, fresh with showers, 

 O thou Fairy-Queen of flowers ! 



Watch thee o'er the plain advance 

 At the head of Flora's dance ; 

 Simple snow-drop! then in thee 

 All thy sister-train I see: 

 Every brilliant bud that blows, 

 From the blue-bell to the rose; 

 All the beauties that appear 

 On the bosom of the year ; 

 All that wreathe the locks of Spring, 

 Summer's ardent breath perfume, 

 Or on the lap of Autumn bloom. 

 All to thee their tribute bring, 

 Exhale their incense at thy shrine, 



— Their hues, their odours all are thine! 

 For while thy humble form I view. 



The Muse's keen prophetic sight 



Brings fair Futurity to light, 



And Fancy's magic makes the vision true. 



— There is a Winter in my soul. 

 The Winter of despair; 



Oh ! when shall Spring its rage control ? 

 When shall the snow-drop blossom there? 

 Cold gleams of comfort sometimes dart 

 A dawn of glory on my heart. 



