The Snowdrop
by Anna Bunston De Bary
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.
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