The Crocuses. 5

Though a tremor of the winter Did shivering through them run; Yet they lifted up their foreheads To greet the vernal sun.

And the sunbeams gave them welcome. As did the morning air And scattered o'er their simple robes Rich tints of beauty rare.

Soon a host of lovely flowers From vales and woodland burst; But in all that fair procession The crocuses were first.

First to weave for Earth a chaplet To crown her dear old head; And to beautify the pathway Where winter still did tread.

And their loved and white haired mother Smiled sweetly 'neath the touch, When she knew her faithful children Were loving her so much.

6 THE PRESENT AGE.

THE PRESENT AGE.

Say not the age is hard and cold-- I think it brave and grand; When men of diverse sects and creeds Are clasping hand in hand.

The Parsee from his sacred fires Beside the Christian kneels; And clearer light to Islam's eyes The word of Christ reveals.

The Brahmin from his distant home Brings thoughts of ancient lore; The Bhuddist breaking bonds of caste Divides mankind no more.

The meek-eyed sons of far Cathay Are welcome round the board; Not greed, nor malice drives away These children of our Lord.

And Judah from whose trusted hands Came oracles divine; Now sits with those around whose hearts The light of God doth shine.