THE POETRY OF FLOWERS. 



31 



All sveet and holy dreams seem blent 

 Within thy maiden heart ; 



How delicate in every lock. 

 In every thought thou art ! 



The blush so frequent on thy cheek. 



Thy meek and quiet air. 

 Thy low and gentle accents,— all 



Thy purity declare. 



CALYCANTHTJS. 



Allspice. 

 COMP.^SSIO.V. 



Thv name is heard in crowds — 



They call thee good and great ; 

 The brightness of the sunset clouds 



Seems showered upon thy fate. 

 Where'er thy pathway leads 



They strew it o'er with flowers — 

 Emblems of generous deeds 



Thy heart profusely showers; 

 Oh, good and great for eyer be — 

 Worthy the praise they yield to thee ! 



Bless thy God, the heart is not 



An abandoned urn. 

 Where, all lonely and fr.rgot. 



Dust and ashes mc.um ; 

 Bless Him, that Lis mercy brings 

 Joy from out its withered things 



iiRs. Case. 



CAMOMILE. 



This plant has a white or yellow flower, and is mucb 

 loTed for its fragrance. 



ESERGT !>■ .\DVERSITY. 



Onwabd ! Hath earth's ceaseless change 



Trampled on thy heart ? 

 Faint not, for that restless range 



Soon will heal the smart. 

 Trust the future — time will prore 

 Earth hath stronger, truer love. 



CAITDYTUFT. 



lis is a pretty garden flower, bearing clusters of small 

 wnite blossoms, and forms a very good border to a 

 flower garden. 



I.VDIFFERKSCK. 



Take back thy flowers and billet-doux. 



Thy sonnets and thy rhymes ; 

 To bum them all I've half resolved 



A dozen of diflferent times. 



So much waste paper lying round — 



So many withered herbs — 

 I'm sure the very sight of them 



My quietude disturbs. 



Thou knowest well I little caro 



Fur gifts like these from thee; 

 'Tis love alone gives worth to such — 



And thou hast none from me. 



CANTEEBUEY BELI. 



ACKN'OWLEEGME>"T. 



Ah, must I tell thee? Well, 1 fear. 



The die is surely cast ; 

 That I am thine, and only thine. 



Beloved, to the last. 



I could not see thee, hear thy voice. 



Or look upon thy brow, 

 Ifor fail to love thee tenderly— 



Uy heart must break or bow. 



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