CHICKWEED. — Will you meet me* 
When axe yon coming ? the flowers have come! 
Bees in the balmy air happily hum! 
In the dim woods where the cool mosses are,- 
Gleams the Anemone’s little bright star; 
Tenderly, timidly down in the dell, 
Sighs the sweet violet, droops the harebell; — 
Soft in the wavy grass lightens the dew, — 
Spring keeps her promises, — why do not yon? 
Mrs. E. S. Osgood. ' 
Jflan a. 
MAY ROSE. — Vigor. 
I in you 
Tind of youth’s vanity and folly naught; 
But mark, in every topic you pursue, 
A mind with intellectual vigor fraught. 
Strange! that one head two prizes thus should win, 
Spring’s flower without, and autumn’s fruit within. 
Ano.nvmous. 
