ANNA BUNSTON DE BARY
Reading edition
170. The Snowdrop
Close to the sod There can be seen A thought of God In white and green. Unmarred, unsoiled It cleft the clay, Serene, unspoiled It views the day. It is so holy And yet so lowly. Would you enjoy Its grace and dower And not destroy The living flower? Then you must, please, Fall on your knees.