Wind-flower, why are you here?

This is a boisterous time of the year

For blossoms as fragile and tender as you

To be out on the roadside in spring-raiment new;

For snow-flakes yet flutter abroad in the air,

And the sleet and the tempest are weary to bear.

Have you not come here, pale darling, too soon?

You would seem more at home with the flowers of June.

"Why have I come here?" the wind-flower said;

"Why?" and she gracefully nodded her head

As a breeze touched her petals: "Perhaps to teach you

That the strong may be sometimes the delicate, too.

I am fed and refreshed by these cold, rushing rains;

The first melting snow-drifts brought life to my veins;

The storm rocked the cradle with lullabies wild;

I am here with the Wind—because I'm his child."



St. Nicholas