WILD FLOWERS. 



" WILD FLOWERS seem to me the true philanthropists of 

 their race. Their generous and cheerful faces ever give a 

 kindly greeting to the troops of merry village children who 

 revel in their blossoming wealth ; and right welcome are 

 they gladdening the eyes of the poor mechanic, when he 

 breathes the fresh country air on Sunday, and gathers a 

 handful of cowslips or daffodils, or the prouder foxglove, 

 to carry home, and set in the dim window of his pent-up 

 dwelling. So dear and beautiful are WILD FLOWEKS, that 

 one would think every one mutt love them." 



Miss TWAMLEY. 



Aye, must love them indeed, Lady ! well 

 might BURNS pause with his plough, to lament 

 over the daisy which he had destroyed ; well 

 might WORDSWORTH pen, I know not how 

 many stanzas, to the same simple flower, and 

 to the golden celandine ; and well might 

 another child of song exclaim : 



" Oh ! I'll never envy riches, though toilin' at the plough, 

 There's flowers alang the peasant's path, e'en kingt miyht 

 stoop to pit'." G. W. 



15 169 



J 



