Again has come the Spring-time,. 



With the crocus's golden bloom. 

 With the smell of the fresh-turned earth-mould. 



And the violet's perfume. 



O gardener ! tell me the secret 



Of thy flowers so rare and sweet ! — 



— " I have only enriched my garden 



With the black mire from the street." 



Samuel Longfelleto. 



The loveliest flowers the closest cling to earth, 

 And they first feel the sun : so violets blue ; 

 So the soft star-like primrose — drenched in dew — 

 The happiest of Spring's happy, fragrant birth. 



John Kehk. 



To Mistress DafFodil 



Will they laugh at your old-fashioned gown. 



Daffodil.? 

 At your simple and plain little gown. 

 As you enter the streets of the town, — 

 Pass you by with a sneer and a frown. 



Daffodil? 



Nay, tell them old fashions are best. 



Daffodil. 

 Old friends are the dearest and best. 

 And the flower we would wear at our breast 

 Is the one longer loved than the rest — 



Daflx>dil. 



Margaret Johnson. 



No pampered bloom of the greenhouse chamber 

 Has half the charm of the lawn's first flower. 



William Cullen Bryant. 



