A Hidden Life

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THE HOLY SNOWDROPS.


Of old, with goodwill from the skies,

  The holy angels came; They walked the earth with human eyes,

  And passed away in flame.

But now the angels are withdrawn,

  Because the flowers can speak; With Christ, we see the dayspring dawn

  In every snowdrop meek.

God sends them forth; to God they tend;

  Not less with love they burn, That to the earth they lowly bend,

  And unto dust return.

No miracle in them hath place,

  For this world is their home; An utterance of essential grace

  The angel-snowdrops come.





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