FEBRUARY 39 



iris, and so we pass on into relations with 

 the good perennials and shrubby things on 

 which we can rely with a sense of content- 

 ment born of long experience. 



Then, as a gentle spirit is ever going back- 

 ward toward the Youth it remembers while the 

 Youth it knows not draws near, our hearts go 

 back to the lost dreams of our morning time 

 and we come into fresh and closer companion- 

 ship with the flowers of our dawn. The 

 daffodil becomes a cup from which we drink 

 not to our friends behind, but to our friends 

 before. Violets are violets no longer, but 

 symbols of that which we can no more share 

 with another than we can share aught else of 

 the richest, sweetest happenings to our souls. 

 Deep is calling unto deep, and once again, be- 

 hold ! all things are new. 



As in the Shepherd's Calendar each month 

 had its emblem, so has mine. January had 

 the Christmas rose ; February has a flower 

 even fairer for her own. In the chill northern 

 garden in which in spite of the pencils and 

 the foot-rule and the catalogues I have gotten 

 only so far as a wind-break, some box borders 

 and a lattice, I must show you my snowdrops. 



