p. 620 | The Home Circle by Mrs. Clara Doty Bates

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Oct 16, 1884

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 10, No. 39.

The Home Circle.

By Mrs. Clara Doty Bates

THE HYACINTH BULB.

BEHOLD my bulb, just putting forth a sheaf Of tender green from out its rusty bud! Would the old Greeks have found upon its leaf "Ai, ai," and in its flower the young god's blood?

I find a sweeter message written there— No cry of woe, no hint of god-hood slain; But early promise of sun-flooded air, Warm, steaming earth and wind-blown, fragrant rain.

Stored in this humble bit of clod there lies Such color as will glad all eyes, I know. If bees love blue, then every bee that flies Will hasten to it when it comes to blow.

My heart, oft prone to question and to doubt, Says of this curious sphere, so brown, so dull, "Soon spikes of blossoms will come bursting out;" Says readily, "They will be beautiful."

Ah! since such easy task has Faith to trace The future of this bulb from leaf to bloom, Why should Hope flood with anguished tears her face Above our loved ones slumbering in the tomb?

As from this germ a hyacinth will grow, Sure as the spring-time—Sure as sun and rain, Out of their blessed depths of sleep I know In God's full season they will rise again. —Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.