SUMMER FLOWERS. 
And where green meadows broad denote, 
That Orchis’ silken fringes float. 
Then, to the spreading vale we’U go, 
Where Buttercups and Daisies grow. 
View the Asclepias e’er they writhe 
Beneath the mower’s sharpened scythe. 
And, like the little busy rover. 
We’ll revel in whole flelds of clover, 
While justly we divide the shares. 
The fragrance ours, the nectar theirs: 
Then wend, our way by streamlet’s edge. 
Where mid the brambles, weeds and sedge. 
In sweet companionship together. 
Dwell Arrow-head and Indian Feather. 
Where flelds of waving grass are spread. 
The Lilt bows her graceful head. 
We’ll venture through the tall green mowing, 
And pluck the beauty while ’tis growing, 
And keep it, to refresh our sight 
Upon some stormy winter night. 
c 
