The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 15, 1901, Page 2

2 THE SUNDAY OALL. JHarrer ay fis ) () oS (ad Q. Jpon the mountains, high above the snow, %‘ Too steep for holly or for mistletos3, ( Where cruel winds forever round i* blow, ' Th-r2 dwells a plant the angels know. Upon the earth its timid leaf-stalks lie, Stark, bare and shivery underneath the sku, For sun and warmth and heat in vain they sigh; Under its icy blasts thep dle. - But onc: a twelvemonth-—on, the frozen steep— From out thair stalks the timid leaflets creep; And from their leaves, as though waked from a sleep, The white wax flowers softlu peep. The ice maid gently touches them, thep sau, A maild who Christmas day passes that wau; And whisparing to the frozen, dead old sward, Tells flower and leaf to greet its Lord.