17 
The snow-di’op timidly looked out, 
But all was dim and drear. 
Save robin’s meny song, that sought 
Her loneliness to cheer. 
And presently the crocus heard 
Their greeting, and awoke. 
And donned with care her golden robe 
And em’rald-coloured cloak; 
And, springing from her russet shroud. 
Stepped forth to meet the sun. 
Who broke the clouds with one bright glance. 
And his jocund race begun. 
The crocus brought her sisters too. 
The purple, pied, and white; 
And the red-breast warbled merrily 
Above the flowerets bright. 
Oh ! the nightingale may love the rose. 
The lark the summer’s heather; 
But the robin’s consort-flow’rs come 
And brave the wintry weather. 
D 
