Snow-flakesSNOW-FLAKES.
Snow-flakes
Are the snow-flakes pearly flowersThat in the skies have birth,And gently fall in gleaming showersUpon this barren earth?Or, are they fleecy locks of wool,From sheep that wander byThe silver streams, that, singing, rollThrough valleys in the sky?Or, are they downy feathers, castBy little birds above,And hurried earthward by the blast,Bright messengers of love?No, they are pearly blossoms, flungFrom heaven’s airy bowers,To recompense us for the lossOf summer’s blooming flowers.Mattie Bell.
Are the snow-flakes pearly flowersThat in the skies have birth,And gently fall in gleaming showersUpon this barren earth?
Are the snow-flakes pearly flowers
That in the skies have birth,
And gently fall in gleaming showers
Upon this barren earth?
Or, are they fleecy locks of wool,From sheep that wander byThe silver streams, that, singing, rollThrough valleys in the sky?
Or, are they fleecy locks of wool,
From sheep that wander by
The silver streams, that, singing, roll
Through valleys in the sky?
Or, are they downy feathers, castBy little birds above,And hurried earthward by the blast,Bright messengers of love?
Or, are they downy feathers, cast
By little birds above,
And hurried earthward by the blast,
Bright messengers of love?
No, they are pearly blossoms, flungFrom heaven’s airy bowers,To recompense us for the lossOf summer’s blooming flowers.Mattie Bell.
No, they are pearly blossoms, flung
From heaven’s airy bowers,
To recompense us for the loss
Of summer’s blooming flowers.
Mattie Bell.
Spring flowers
With what a lavish handGod beautifies the earth,When everywhere, all o’er the land,Sweet flowers are peeping forth!Down by the babbling brook,Up in the silent hills,The glen, the bower, the shady nook,Their breath with fragrance fills.They creep along the hedge,They climb the rugged height,And, leaning o’er the water’s edge,Blush in their own sweet light.They seem to breathe and talk;They pour into my ear;Where’er I look, where’er I walk,A music soft and clear.They have no pride of birth,No choice of regal bower;The humblest, lowliest spot on earthMay claim the fairest flower.
With what a lavish handGod beautifies the earth,When everywhere, all o’er the land,Sweet flowers are peeping forth!
With what a lavish hand
God beautifies the earth,
When everywhere, all o’er the land,
Sweet flowers are peeping forth!
Down by the babbling brook,Up in the silent hills,The glen, the bower, the shady nook,Their breath with fragrance fills.
Down by the babbling brook,
Up in the silent hills,
The glen, the bower, the shady nook,
Their breath with fragrance fills.
They creep along the hedge,They climb the rugged height,And, leaning o’er the water’s edge,Blush in their own sweet light.
They creep along the hedge,
They climb the rugged height,
And, leaning o’er the water’s edge,
Blush in their own sweet light.
They seem to breathe and talk;They pour into my ear;Where’er I look, where’er I walk,A music soft and clear.
They seem to breathe and talk;
They pour into my ear;
Where’er I look, where’er I walk,
A music soft and clear.
They have no pride of birth,No choice of regal bower;The humblest, lowliest spot on earthMay claim the fairest flower.
They have no pride of birth,
No choice of regal bower;
The humblest, lowliest spot on earth
May claim the fairest flower.