Stray Leaves from a Border Garden 
Her skin as white as new fallen snow, 
But a flower face paler than lilies e’er show. 
The village children many a day 
With sweet Snygurka came to play ; 
She was as a sunbeam in the life 
Of the poor old moujik and his wife. 
Winter ended, the Spring sun smiled 
On the earth, but, alas, the fair Snow child 
Pined, as the sunshine waxed warm and strong, 
And hid away from the childish throng. 
About the fields the children sing : 
" How did you come to us, sweet Spring ? 
Didst come a-riding harrow or plough ? ’ ’ 
But Snygurka will not play with them now. 
As the Winter’s snow wreaths failed, 
Snygurka daily pined and paled, 
And Masha feared the Evil Eye 
Had doomed her little Love to die. 
The last of Winter’s snow had fled; 
Winter, grim conqueror, lay dead, 
The brooks and streams ran free and fleet, 
’Twas easy to track Spring’s scented feet. 
The nightingale and all birds sang, 
Thro’ all the world Spring’s joybells rang, 
The gloom of Winter had passed away, 
Yet Snygurka became more sad each day. 
She loved to play in the chilling shower, 
Or under the trees — a timid flower, 
From the sun in sheltered nook would hide 
By the green willows, by the brookside. 
The feast of St. John was now at hand, 
The cornfields were golden throughout the land, 
In the woods the children spent many hours 
Playing and weaving wreaths of flowers. 
As the sun set they made a fire, 
Danced and sang round the glowing pyre, 
Crying : “ Snygurka, come, do the same.” 
But only a sigh in answer came. 
For many a day, by wood and wild, 
Men sought in vain for the gentle child. 
With aching heart poor Masha cried ; 
' ' Surely Snygurka has not died ! ’ ’ 
14 
