Lyra Pastoralis | ||
Snowdrops
I
White thoughts we bringOf waking Spring,
And happy bird
To music stirred.
II
Sweet thoughts we raiseOf those white days
When Mary mild
Presents her Child.
III
High thoughts we tellWith trembling bell—
Earth's Easter day,
Saints' white array.
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IV
Glad thoughts are oursOf angel-bowers,
Where sons of light
Shall walk in white.
Lyra Pastoralis | ||