---

Mary Darby Robinson - The Snowdrop
Work rating: Medium

The snowdrop, Winter`s timid child,
Awakes to life, bedew`d with tears;
And flings around its fragrance mild,
And where no rival flow`rets bloom,
Amid the bare and chilling gloom,
A beauteous gem appears!

All weak and wan, with head inclined,
Its parent breast the drifted snow; 
It trembles while the ruthless wind
Bends its slim form; the tempest lours,
Its emerald eye drops crystal showers
On its cold bed below.

Poor flower! on thee the sunny beam,
No touch of genial warmth bestows;
Except to thaw the icy stream,
Whose little current purls along
Thy fair and glossy charms among,
And whelms thee as it flows.

The night-breeze tears thy silky dress,
Which deck`d, with silvery lustre shone;
The morn returns, not thee to bless,
The gaudy crocus flaunts its pride,
And triumphs where its rival died,
Unshelter`d and unknown!

No sunny beam shall gild thy grave,
No bird of pity thee deplore;
There shall no spreading branches wave;
For Spring shall all her gems unfold,
And revel `mid her buds of gold,
When thou art seen no more!

Where`er I find thee, gentle flower,
Thou still art sweet and dear to me;
For I have known the cheerless hour,
Have seen the sunbeams cold and pale, 
Have felt the chilling wintry gale,
And wept and shrunk like thee!
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.