Snowdrops

A small bird twitters on a leafless spray,

Across the snow-waste breaks a gleam of gold:

What token can I give my friend to-day

But February blossoms, pure and cold?

Frail gifts from Nature's half-reluctant hand...

I see the signs of spring about the land...

[T]hese chill snowdrops, fresh from wintry bowers,

Are the forerunners of a world of flowers.

~Sarah Doudney, "Snowdrops (Consolation)," c.1881