The Snowdrop

Ann Batten Cristall

See the snowdrop bend its head,
While the winds around it blow,
Trembling at each breath of air,
Laden with the drifting snow.

Yet no harm it seems to fear,
‘Though the tempest loudest swell;
Still it lifts its tender form,
Drooping o’er the frozen dell.

Modest emblem of the meek,
Fair and spotless, pure and white,
Teaching to the loftiest mind
Lessons of the just and right.