52 
every dew-drop became a diamond; the windings 
of the river twinkled from between the trees on its 
banks, and a chorus of birds burst forth in a joyous 
welcome to the brightest of all earth’s beauties. At 
this moment a light wind swept over the landscape, 
and every pink and white Anemone expanded 
to welcome it. So joyously did they wave in 
the gay breeze, that Mary clapped her hands 
and joined in the dance. It seemed as if a thou¬ 
sand rose-flakes were suddenly scattered over the 
grass. 
At first they did not see her, for their first look, 
like their last, is always at their father, the Sun. 
All flowers love the Sun; but some of his daugh¬ 
ters so love the radiance of his countenance, that 
they never turn their gaze away from it. They fol¬ 
low his course through the heavens, as if they wished 
to behold no object of lesser glory. If a dark cloud 
