A WILD OF FLOWERS. 
A Daisy peeped from the tufted sod, 
In its bashful modesty drooping, 
Where often the morn, as I lightly trod, 
In bounding youth, the fallow clod, 
Had over it seen me stooping ; 
It looked in my face with a dewy eye 
From its ring of ruby lashes, 
And it seemed, that a brighter was lurking by, 
The fires of whose ebony lustre fly, 
Like summer’s dazzling flashes. 
And the wind, with a soft and silent wing, 
Brushed over this wild of flowers, 
And it wakened the birds, who began to sing 
Their hymn to the season of love and Spring, 
In the shade of the bending bowers ; 
And it culled their full nectareous store, 
In its lightly fluttering motion, 
As when from Hybla’s murmuring shore 
The evening breeze from her thyme-beds bore 
Her sweetness over the ocean. 
PERCIVAL. 
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