FABLES OF FLORA. 
135 
FABLE XXXIX. 
The Anemone. 
Soft stealing from beneath the snow, 
I saw a pretty Windflower blow; 
Fair were its petals, streaked with red, 
Like sunset on a snowflake shed. 
1 How dar’st thou, gentle flower, to brave 
This early spring? —far better save 
Thy fairy bloom, to grace the day 
When wind and storm have passed away.’ 
‘ My humble gifts would be no boon 
Among the myriad flowers of June; 
Now, when the earth is brown and bare, 
One little spot I make more fair. 
‘ I love among these lingering snow3 
To stand, the herald of the Rose; 
For saddest eyes grow bright to see 
The prophet-flower, Anemone 1 ’ 
A lesson to my heart I read, 
And to the gentle floweret said, 
‘ I, too, where I am needed most, 
Will firmly stand, at every cost! ’ 
