THE CHILI) AJND THE ROSE. 
R\ MRS. SEBA SMITH 
When stirring bud and songful bird 
Brought gladness to the Earth, 
And spring-time voices first were heard 
In low, sweet sounds of mirth ; 
A little child, with pleasant eyes, 
Reclined in tranquil thought, 
And, half communing with the skies, 
His pretty fancies wrought. 
He turn’d where cased in robes of green 
A Rose-bud met his eye— 
And one faint streak the leaves between. 
Rich in its crimson dye. 
The warm light gathereth in the sky - 
The bland air stirreth’round — 
And yet the child is lingering by, 
Half kneeling on the ground : 
