It was her last!  Ere the spring breezes came again, she lay within her little shroud.  The snows of winter fell silently upon her little grave, by the side of him who had gone before, and, ere another May-day, the sod was green above them.

These are the memories that come over me when I look out upon the revellers; yet just as well do I love to see them at their sports, and I can look upon their light, graceful forms, and hear their merry laughter; and, though my heart goes to the grave-yard and mine eyes rest upon the spot, yet I can smile upon the gay, living creatures before me, for I know that childhood is a glad and joyous thing, and that these beings are the light and joy of some homes, and I pray that these homes may be never darkened by Death’s shadow crossing the threshold.

These my May-day reveries have begun lightly, and ended, as May-days themselves have done, in sad thoughts.  But sad thoughts and life’s troubles are, or ought to be, the heart’s discipline.  For this purpose do they come to us, and we should go forth from them purer and better.

THE SNOW-DROP.

BY MRS. M.A.  LIVERMORE.

   The gentle, laughing, spring had come
     With eye and cheek so bright;
   The bird glanced through the clear, blue air,
     On wing of golden light;
   And earth, in gladness, lay and smiled,
     To see the beauteous sight.

   The streams went singing to the sea,
     And dancing to their song;
   Its carpet, had the young grass spread
     The hills and vales among;
   Yet not a flower its bloom had shed,
     The fresh green earth along.

   Not yet the violet had unsealed
     Its blue and loving eye;
   Nor had the primrose dared unfold,
     For fear that it might die;
   And on the tree-tops shook the leaves,
     Which oped to kiss the sky.

   But so it chanced, one gentle day,
     While softly wept the rain,
   And sadly sighed the mourning breeze,
     The flowers to see again;
   A silvery snow-flake fell to earth,
     Escaped from winter’s chain.

   And daintily it laid itself
     Where greenest grass was spread,
   And where the bland and warm south-wind,
     Soft-footed, loved to tread,
   And here the white-robed fugitive
     Made for itself a bed.

   The flower-goddess smiled to see
     This new-born snow that fell;
   “I’ll change it to a flower,” said she
     “By magic touch, and spell;
   For ’twill be long ere blossoms ope,
     That spring doth love so well.”

   Then with a wand of living light,
     She touched the feathery snow;
   And on it, radiant from her cheek,
     There streamed a sunny glow. 
   Forth from the tiny, crystal flake,
     The pearly petals came;
   The stem sprang up—­there waved a flower,—­
   The SNOW-DROP was its name!