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.
The Snowdrop by Anna Bunston De Bary