Harriet Beecher Stowe,
Religious Poems — The Crocus
(1867)
“ And buried deep the crocus-bulbs Against a coming day. "These roots are dry, and brown, and sere; Why plant them here?" he said, "To leave them, all the winter long, So desolate and dead." "Dear child, within each sere dead form There sleeps a living flower, And angel-like it shall arise In spring's returning hour." ”
