MARCH
Reading edition
[From HONE'S "Year Book"]
The insect world, now sunbeams higher climb, Oft dream of Spring, and wake before their time: Bees stroke their little legs across their wings, And venture short flights where the snow-drop hings Its silver bell, and winter aconite Its buttercup-like flowers that shut at night, With green leaf furling round its cup of gold, Like tender maiden muffled from the cold: They sip and find their honey-dreams are vain, Then feebly hasten to their hives again. The butterflies, by eager hopes undone, Glad as a child come out to greet the sun, Beneath the shadows of a sunny shower Are lost, nor see to-morrow's April flower.