THE SNOWDROP. 



and sigh — the hoar frost may whiten the naked branches of 

 our trees — the clouds may have covered the face of the earth 

 with a snowy carpet — the songs of birds may have ceased, 

 and the flowing streams may no longer murmur, being bound 

 in icy fetters — the freezing atmosphere may have attained its 

 maximum strength — the sun, shrouded in fog, may but feebly 

 light up our fields — our hearts may sink saddened within us 

 at the death-like appearance of Nature ; but yet the springing 

 up of the little Snowdrop produces an emotion of pleasure ; 

 the consolatory feeling that snow shall disappear, ice dissolve, 

 birds renew their song, green leaves take the place of hoar 

 frost, the sun shine forth again in splendour, and all Nature 

 awaken to life and beauty. 



The venerated Keble thus addressed the Snowdrop : 



" Thou first-born of the year's delight, pride of the dewy glade, 

 In vernal green and virgin white, thy vestal robes arrayed. 



Thy shy averted smiles 

 To fancy bode a joyous year, one of life's fairy isles. 



They twinkle to the wintry moon, and cheer the ungenial day, 

 And tell us, aU will glisten soon as green and bright as they. 



Is there a heart, that loves the Spring, their witness can refuse .'"' 



The answer is. No ! and the poet goes on to moralize in a 

 manner most devout and admirable, as those who love his 

 " Christian Year " well know. 



Langhorne addresses our flower as the 



" Earliest bud that decks the garden, fairest of the fragrant race, 

 First-born child of vernal Flora, seeking mild thy lowly place ; 



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