A Laughing Chorus
Oh, such a commotion under the ground When March called, “Ho, there! ho!”
Such spreading of rootlets far and wide, Such whispering to and fro;
And, “Are you ready?” the Snowdrop asked, “‘Tis time to start, you know.”
“Almost, my dear,” the Scilla replied; “I’ll follow as soon as you go.”
Then, “Ha! ha! ha!” a chorus came Of laughter soft and low,
From the millions of flowers under the ground, Yes—millions—beginning to grow.
O, the pretty brave things! through the coldest days, Imprisoned in walls of brown,
They never lost heart though the blast shrieked loud, And the sleet and the hail came down,
But patiently each wrought her beautiful dress, Or fashioned her beautiful crown;
And now they are coming to brighten the world, Still shadowed by Winter’s frown;
And well may they cheerily laugh, “Ha! ha!” In a chorus soft and low,
The millions of flowers hid under the ground Yes—millions—beginning to grow.