CARES I HAVE NOT. 147
Fell snow-flakes, like the blooms which died ;
Tiny and pale,
Petalled and frail, White flowers for a fairy bride.
But loyal still
To heavenly will, They wore its signet from afar,
For radiant whorl
And shattered pearl Each bore the likeness of a star.
So saints should go
On earth below, Working their Master s holy will ;
Yet, firm impressed
On brow and breast, The Master s seal should glitter still.
��CARES I HAVE NOT.
1HAVE my cares. In every lot We find their faces sad ; But when I count those I have not My very heart grows glad.
What if I must be up betimes
To open budding flow rs, Or wake the birds (alas ! I fear
They would keep wretched hours) ?