DROPS FROM FLORA’S CUP. 89 
FLOWERS. 
MART HOWITT. 
Buttercups and daisies — 
0, the pretty flowers! 
Coming ere the spring-time, 
To tell of sunny hours. 
While the trees are leafless, 
While the fields are bare, 
Buttercups and daisies 
Spring up here and there. 
Ere the snowdrop peepeth, 
Ere the crocus bold, 
Ere the early primrose 
Opes its paly gold, 
Somewhere on a sunny bank 
Buttercups bre bright; 
Somewhere ’mong the frozen grass 
Peeps the daisy white. 
Little hardy flowers, 
Like the children poor, 
Playing in their sturdy health 
By their mother’s door; 
Purple with the north wind, 
Yet alert and bold; 
Fearing not and caring not, 
Though they be a cold. 
