SNOWDROPS

“A small bird twitters on a leafless spray,

Across the snow-waste breaks a gleam of gold: What token can I give my friend today

But February blossoms, pure and cold?

Frail gifts from Nature’s half-reluctant hand... I see the signs of spring about the land...

These chill snowdrops, fresh from wintry bowers, Are the forerunners of a world of flowers.”

Sarah Doudney, Snowdrops (Consolation), c. 1881