Seeing how far one's stocks will reach ; 

 Taking due care one's flowers of speech 

 To guard from blight as well as bathos, 

 And watering, every day, one's pathos ! 



A letter conies, just gather 'd. We 

 Dote on its tender brilliancy ; 

 Inhale its delicate expressions 

 Of balm and pea, and its confessions 

 Made with as sweet a Maiden's Blush 

 As ever mom bedew'd on bush 

 (Tis in reply to one of ours. 

 Made of the most convincing flowers), 

 Then after we have kissed its wit 

 And heart, in water putting it 

 (To keep its remarks fresh), go round 

 Our little eloquent plot of ground. 

 And with enchanted hands compose 

 Our answer all of lily and rose. 

 Of tuberose and of violet, 

 And Little Darling (Mignonette), 

 Of Look at me and Call me to you 

 (Words that while they greet go through you). 

 Of Thoughts, of Flames, Forget-me-not, 

 Bridewort, — in short, the whole blest lot 

 Of vouchers for a life-long kiss 

 And literally, breathing bliss. 



LEIGH HUNT. 



23 



