The Snowdrop’s Message

A close up of a flower

Bend down your ear to listen please the trembling snowdrop said,
I can’t speak very loud you know, I never raise my head.
I’m but a little servant, and yet I’m honour’d too,
A message from the land of flowers this day I bring to you.

The primrose and anemone, above the dead leave shining,
The bluebell carpet in the woods, the honeysuckle climbing.
Sweet roses in the gardens, heather on mountain brow.
They are coming! They are coming.  They are getting ready I know.

I see them all, a shadowy throng, each taking its own part
Wait, only wait, and each in turn ‘ere long will cheer your heart.
They are peeping o’er my shoulder and you may see them too,
Thank God then for the message the snowdrop brings to you.

God sends me as the token of the bright returning spring,
His promise on my cheek is stamped with its pencil green.
The flowers are His, He bids me say, unfolding at His call
And He who waked one flower from sleep will do the same for all.


Those who follow our extracts from the Rev Edward Stevens diary will be familiar with the Dix family, especially the Misses Dix who often entertained Rev Stevens to tea and helped with the Penny Bank. Miss Sarah Dix, as a 13 year-old girl in 1851, kept a diary which Maureen Hicks has been transcribing during Lockdown.  At the end of her diary Sarah copied out many religious texts, poems and other items of interest to her, including this one. The author “M.E.M.” is a mystery.