SONG OF THE BLOSSOMS. 



BARE were the branches, 

A few days ago; 

Now they are gleaming 

With garlands like snow. 

Each tiny blossom, 

Unfolding to light, 

Helping to garnish 

The stems with pure white. 

Sweet is the perfume 

The bloom scatters wide, 

Nestling in sunshine 

Of happy springtide. 

Pure thoughts, like blossoms, 

Will surely bring light 

Into the heart's home, 

Making it bright. 

Bind deeds, like fragrance, 

Such blossoms of love 

Shed through the wide earth, 

Their presence to prove. 

All come from Our Father, 

What bounty he sends! 

What gladness he wakens! 

What beauty he lends! 





—Ann Elizabeth Harrington.