WORDSWORTH again, this time greeting that much loved harbinger of spring.

My front garden is full of them!

TO A SNOWDROP

Lone flower, hemmed in with snows,

and white as they

But hardier far, once more I see thee

bend

Thy forehead as if fearful to offend,

Like an unbidden guest. Though day

by day

Storms sallying from the mountain-tops,

waylay

The rising sun, and on the plains descend;

Yet art though welcome, welcome as

a friend

Whose zeal outruns his promise! Blue-

eyed May

Shall soon behold this border thickly set

With bright jonquils, their odours

avishing

On the soft west-wind and his frolic

peers;

Nor will I then thy modest grace forget,

Chaste snowdrop, venturous harbinger

of spring,

And pensive monitor of fleeting years!