606 JAMES CLERK MAXWELL. 



Who can fold those flowers again, 

 In the way he found them ? 



Or those spreading leaves restrain, 

 In the buds that bound them ? 



Trust me, Spring is very near, 

 All the buds are swelling ; 



All the glory of the year 

 In those buds is dwelling. 



What the opened buds reveal 

 Tells us Life is flowing; 



What the buds, still shut, conceal, 

 We shall end in knowing. 



Long I lingered in the bud, 

 Doubting of the season, 



Winter's cold had chilled my blood- 

 I was ripe for treason. 



Now no more I doubt or wait, 

 All my fears are vanished, 



Summer's coming, dear, though late, 

 Fogs and frosts are banished. 



Tune, II Segreto per esser felice. 



24th March 1858. 

 I. 



THERE are some folks that say, 

 They have found out a way, 



To be healthy and wealthy and wise 

 " Let your thoughts be but few, 

 Do as other folk do, 



And never be caught by surprise. 

 Let your motto be Follow the fashion, 

 But let other people alone ; 



