64 
SNOW-DROP. 
Their father’s home, so free from care, 
And the familiar faces there: 
The household voices, kind and sweet, 
That knew no feigning—hushed and gone ! 
The mother that was sure to greet 
Their coming with a welcome tone; 
The brothers, that were children then, 
Now anxious, thoughtful, toiling men; 
And the kind sisters, whose glad mirth 
Was like a sun-shine on the earth ;— 
These come back to the heart supine, 
Flower of our youth ! at look of thine ; 
And thou, among the dimmed and gone, 
Art an unaltered thing alone ! 
Unchanged, unchanged the very flower 
That grew in Eden droopingly, 
Which now, beside the peasant’s door 
Awakes his merry children’s glee, 
Even as it fill’d his heart with joy. 
Beside his mother’s door—a boy ; 
The same, and to his heart it brings 
The freshness of those vanished springs. 
Bloom, then, fair flower ! in sun and shade, 
For deep thought in thy cup is laid, 
And careless children in their glee, 
A sacred memory make of thee. 
