HE SPARED MY FLOWER. 
OiTCE on a glowing Summer’s day, 
I saw a buncL. of flowerets gay, 
And opening buds, a rich display, 
Tbe tall grass waving round it. 
And near it swept tbe mower’s arm; 
But sucb its native power to cbarm. 
He could not do my floweret barm. 
But left it where be found it. 
And there for many a day it staid. 
In tints of golden bgbt arrayed. 
And with tbe laughing sunbeams played. 
Brightly and gaily dancing. 
And every one who pass’d, it blessed. 
While not a thought of care oppressed. 
Or fear disturbed its gentle breast. 
From scythe in sunlight glancing. 
And thanks unto the gentle lad. 
Who such an eye for beauty had. 
In Nature’s glowing colors clad. 
With grateful heart I’d render. 
But many suns have set, alas! 
Since he from this fair world did pass. 
And other men have mowed the grass. 
But none with hearts more tender. 
( 29 ) 
