See how they hang out their bells as if to greet VOICI 

 the wind. "Our Lady's Bells," we call them, ' 

 and the name is fitting, for nothing in nature 

 speaks more plainly of courage and purity. 

 We think of that " First snowdrop of the year" 

 which lay on the breast of the nun as on St. 

 Agnes' Eve she prayed for the purity of its 

 snows. 



Tomorrow, or perhaps next day, certainly 

 before many days, we shall see the Hepatica 

 open its blue eyes and look up at us from some 

 nook where it has been willing to accept a 

 home, and the Crocus will lift its "chalice cup 

 brimmed with dew." Do they not speak of 

 a purity that "knows naught of fear"? 



Look now where the green shoots of the 

 Daffodils pierce the mold and lift their brave 

 trumpets of silver and gold. Do they not tell 

 of a courage that "keeps the heart strong be- 

 cause safe in the Hand that fashioned its 

 beauty"? 



Can you not hear, when winds are still, 

 The gay fanfare of the Daffodil? 



[77] 



