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4 The Floral King.
her again by unfolding to her its choice floraf
treasures, and she felt quite impatient with crueb
Father Winter for ruthlessly nipping her beautiful
flowers with his early frost.
At last spring returned, and what joy did it not
bring to her yearning heart; for not only is spring
in Sweden the most beautiful season of the year,
when nature in a few days wakes from wintry sleep.
from under the snowy cover, and the soil gratefully
absorbs the remaining snow to fertilize the earth,
whole masses of ice, dissolving into water, hasten.
away in merry little rills, as if afraid of being hid
in the earth, and rush to swell the tributaries of
the many rivers, which all make for the cool, clear
sea—and when every twig and frond is covered.
with eager budding leaflets, kissed to life by spring,
and inquisitive to look abroad—at this delightful
season, when all nature rejoices at the spring-time:
of her new existence, ‘‘just when the cuckoo with
mystic notes heralded the advent of the floral
season,” the curate and his young wife, on the 13th
of May, the old Gregorian style, anno 1707, were
supremely blest by, the seasonable advent of a
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