A WILD FLOWER WREATE. 



BY THE AUTHOR OP " Nug<K SaCT<t" 



If stranger hands might dare 

 A wild-flower wreath prepare, 

 The sweet enthusiastic's hair, 



Her flowing hair to bind 

 Oh ! I would haste to bring 

 The violet of Spring, 

 Whose odours scent the wing 



Of every passing wind. 



Each flower that early blows, 

 The May-bough's wreathed snows, 

 The wild-brier's folded rose, 



And woodbine's fragrant bloom; 

 The speedwell's eye of blue, 

 Suffused with morning dew, 

 Should smilingly glance through 



The tresses of the broom. 

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