I thought that spring had come,
And lo! This morning when I woke,
March had a little joke
In store for me.
Each waking shrub and tree
Was glistening with a million
The tulip row that hems
Was snuggled, like a sleepy-head,
Beneath a coverlet of white;
And nowhere could a violet be seen,
Or any blade of green.
Arriving in the night,
The old March lion
Had put the timid lamb to flight!
CHRISTIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION