Lord God in Paradise, For the wonder of the seed, Wondering, we praise you, while We tell you of our need. Look down from Paradise, Look upon our sowing, Bless the little gardens And the good green growing! Give us sun, Give us rain, Bless the orchards And the grain! LOUISE DRISCOLL SILVER BELLS AND COCKLE SHELLS PLANTING _The sky is blue and soft to-day, The grass is green this month of May, And Muvver with her spade and rake My little garden helps me make; For every one must plant more seeds To grow the food that each one needs: Potatoes, corn, green peas, and beets, The kind of beans that sister eats, We plant in rows marked by a string, For neatness is the one great thing; The earth is then raked smooth and pressed And Nature 'tends to all the rest._ ROBERT LIVINGSTON SPRING PATCHWORK If I could patch a coverlet From pieces of the Spring, What dreams a happy child would have Beneath so fair a thing! A center of the dear blue sky, A bordering of green, With patches of the yellow sun All chequered in between. Bright ribbons of the silky grass Laced prettily across, With satin of new little leaves, And velvet of the moss. In every corner, violets, Half-hidden from the view, With many-flowered squares betwixt, Of pinky tints and blue; Of flossy silk and gossamer, Of tissue and brocade; A warp of rosy morning mist, A woof of purple shade. Embroideries of little vines, And spider-webs of lace, With tassels of the alder tied At each convenient place. With gold-thread I would sew the seams, And needles of the pine, Oh, never child in all the world Would have a quilt like mine! ABBIE FARWELL BROWN BABY'S VALENTINE Valentine, O Valentine, Pretty little Love of mine; Little Love whose yellow hair Makes the daffodils despair; Little Love whose shining eyes Fill the stars with sad surprise: Hither turn your ten wee toes, Each a tiny shut-up rose, End most fitting and complete For the rosy-pinky feet; Toddle, toddle here to me, For I'm waiting, do you see?-- Waiting for to call you mine, Valentine, O Valentine! Valentine, O Valentine, I will dress you up so fine! Here's a frock of tulip-leaves, Trimmed with lace the spider weaves; Here's a cap of larkspur blue, Just precisely made for you; Here's a mantle scarlet-dyed, Once the tiger-lily's pride, Spotted all with velvet black Like the fire-beetle's back; Lady-slippers on your feet, Now behold you all complete! Come and let me call you mine, Valentine, O Valentine!