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.