MARCH.

BENEATH the sheltering walls the thin

clings,

Dead winter's skeleton, left bleaching white,
Disjointed, crumbling, on unfriendly fields.
The inky pools surrender tardily

At noon, to patient herds; a frosty drink
From jagged rims of ice; a subtle red

Of life is kindling every twig and stalk

snow

Of lowly meadow growths; the willows wrap
Their stems in furry white; the pines grow gray
A little in the biting wind; midday

Brings tiny burrowed creatures, peeping out
Alert for sun.

Ah, March! we know thou art
Kind-hearted, spite of ugly looks and threats,
And, out of sight, art nursing April's violets.

Mrs. H. H. Jackson.

The very room, coz she was in,
Seemed warm from floor to ceilin',
An' she looked full as rosy agin,
Ez the apples she was peelin'.

'Twas kin' o' kingdom-come to look
On such a blessed creeter,
A dogrose blushin' to a brook
Ain't modester nor sweeter.

March 2.

As unto the bow the cord is,
So unto the man is woman:

J. R. Lowell.

Though she bends him, she obeys him,
Though she draws him, yet she follows,
Useless each without the other!

H. W. Longfellow.

All are needed by each one;
Nothing is fair or good alone.

That climbs from the heart of earth to heaven,

And the virtue that gently rises thence
Through trial sent and victory given.

On every side he open was as day,

W. D. Howells.

That you might see no lack of strength within.

H. D. Thoreau.