Floral Poetry. 
THE SNOWDROP. 
HE Snowdrop, Winter’s timid child, 
A Awakes to life, bedewed with tears ; 
And flings around its fragrance mild, 
And where no rival flowerets bloom, 
Amid the bare and chilling gloom, 
A beauteous gem appears ! 
All weak and wan, with head inclined, 
Its parent breast the drifted snow ; 
It trembles while the ruthless wind 
Bends its slim form; the tempest lours, 
Its emerald eye drops crystal showers 
On its cold bed below. 
Poor flower! on thee the sunny beam, 
No touch of genial warmth bestows ; 
Except to thaw the icy stream, 
Whose little current purls along 
Thy fair and glossy charms among, 
And whelms thee as it flows. 
The night-breeze tears thy silky dress, 
Which decked with silvery lustre shone ; 
The morn returns, not thee to bless, 
The gaudy Crocus flaunts its pride, 
And triumphs where its rival died, 
Unsheltered and unknown ! 
No sunny beam shall gild thy grave, 
No bird of pity thee deplore ; 
There shall no spreading branches wave ; 
For Spring shall all her gems unfold, 
And revel ’mid her buds of gold, 
When thou art seen no more ! 
