  “Oh, Winter, must you leave so soon?” Said Spring as Winter turned to go. “If only you could stay till June, And help to make my garden grow.” So back again that night he goes To see the flowers, how they grow. Poor things, they looked so cold, he throws O’er them a coverlet—of snow. Next morning Spring was full of woe To find her flowers frozen—dead. “The Fool I never thought he’d go And take me at my word,” she said. TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation of external sources. Except for those changes noted below, all misspellings in the text, and inconsistent or archaic usage, have been retained. Pg 9: ‘too and fro’ replaced by ‘to and fro’. |
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