(SONG OF SOLOMON, ii. 12.)


Now the win-ter cold is past,
And blithe March winds are blow-ing,
In shel-ter-ed nooks we find at last
Bright flow-ers of spring are grow-ing.

Along the hedge-row's mossy bank,
Where ivy green is creep-ing,
We see through weeds and net-tles rank
The dark-blue vi-o-let peep-ing.

And in the sun-ny gar-den beds
Gay a-co-nites are show-ing,
And snow-drops bend their grace-ful heads,
And cro-cus-es are glow-ing.

God makes the buds and leaves un-fold,
All flow-ers are of His giv-ing;
He guards them through the win-ter's cold,
He cares for all things liv-ing.

[Illustration]

[Illustration: WHO TORE IT?]

[Illustration: The E-mu in Aus-tra-lia's found,
Where the wild bush spreads far a-round.]