COLUMBINE 



ILD Columbine the Winter mocks, 

 yiln Spring-time, where the barren rocks 

 Amid the matted mosses first are seen 

 Upon the rugged hills, yet scarcely green. 

 They nod when April's breezes roughly find 

 Their scarlet coats, with yellow satin lined. 



ND mocking still, with eager lip 

 Their drinking bells the cold rains sip 

 They drink and mock, while sturdily they 

 swing 



To beautify the trailing gown of Spring, 

 And form a lovely fillet, red and gold 

 To make a girdle where the rocks are cold. 

 And with a scintillating dance they twine 

 A fringe of early Columbine. 



Gabrielle Mulliner 



69 



